You Give Me Fever
by SheWroteintheWind
Summary: There are voices all around whispering sweet, dark nothings into the vast grayness that has become her life. For Sakura, it is only a matter of listening intently…or going insane.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto. **

**Rated M: Due to coarse language, violence, and some adult themes.**

* * *

_**You don't have to like me…**_

_**But you will respect me.**_

"I will do no such thing."

A raspy voice, rough with the need for water, says to nothing in particular. With only the shadows and constant chill in the air (and possibly the spider in the corner of the cell if it hadn't up and fled the coop), the young woman had learned to find solace in the lack of company, to find peace in the absolute silence.

In truth, she'd much rather be left alone. It was safer.

Sakura Haruno, praised apprentice of the fifth hokage, had been trapped in the same dank maximum security cell for nearly two weeks, if her ability to keep track of time in a place with no natural light was at all reliable. It was a blow to her pride as a Leaf kunoichi to be held in her own village's facilities for highly treacherous S-class nin but, she relented, it wasn't truly Konoha anymore.

Sakura watched dazedly as the only semi-constant companion she'd had during her captivity scuttled over her scuffed boot. The little spider was peculiar in looks as well as behavior. It was entirely white, and Sakura had spent some time puzzling over possible survival advantages to this adaptation. Honestly, she had nothing better to do with her time after proving to herself that the seal enforced cell coupled with chakra draining cuffs on her wrists, pretty much zeroed her chances of escape. So, as Sakura began imagining a life adapted specifically for living in the darkness of a maximum security dungeon, she was not quite paying attention to the little arachnid as it lunged from the toe of her shoe to the bars of her cell, plunging into the shadows of an empty corridor.

_Why do you get to leave whenever you want while I'm stuck in this shithole? _The kunoichi's starved mind contemplated. Vaguely, she wandered how long she had until her steadily culminating fever reached its peak. A person could die down here due to the elements alone. Sakura had the added bonus of occasional interrogations to weaken her immune system, on top of being deprived food and water.

Staring up at the ceiling which she couldn't even see, Sakura allowed her vision to glaze over until all she could focus on was the memory of those red demon eyes. Shining with the hunger to destroy and imprison, those swirling eyes were the last clear image she had since her capture. Even during her interrogations, which she could remember very little of and could only hope she never told anything of importance, Sakura's attention was split by that memory.

_They must drug the food they so rarely see fit to give me._

Sakura growled at nothing and no one, her stomach chiming in as she rest her head against the stone wall at her back, too exhausted to care that the scummy water trickling down it was soaking her tangled hair.

For the umpteenth time, the girl who had been forced to grow up much too soon wandered what the point of it was. Why was she valuable enough to keep under lock and key when so many of her comrades had been slain? Was it because they deemed her safe enough to keep alive – because she was too weak to defy them?

Sakura weakly thumped her fist on the ground, creating ripples in the puddles surrounding her. Her glove was nothing but a useless, shredded scrap of cloth, but she refused to discard it. Her gloves had been a gift from the hokage, bestowed upon her the day of her chunin exams.

_Tsunade-shishou!_

Scrunching her eyes shut, Sakura willed the tears away. It was becoming increasingly easier to do, though she wasn't sure if it had to do with her coming to terms with the facts, or if the drugs were keeping her checked out of reality just enough to take some of the edge off.

Danzo had struck. And struck hard.

Brutally, and sooner than anticipated, Danzo's plans for a coup were set into motion on an average day that had Sakura diligently on call at the hospital, not more than a few minutes' walk from the hokage tower where Tsunade was stationed at her desk, most likely whining at Shizune about the severe lack of selection in her not-so-secret stash of alcohol hidden in the bottom drawer. Around five in the evening, just an hour before Sakura would have clocked out of her shift to go home for a well-deserved bowl of miso soup, the bombs went off.

_The hospital was thrown into a whirlwind of chaos, sirens, flashing lights, and recorded, monotone instructions over the intercom asking for calm and orderly evacuation. Easier said than done when an entire wing of patients, doctors, and nurses was just blown sky high and the rest of the building was filling with billowing clouds of smoke and the nauseating smell of searing flesh. Screams echoed off the white tiled walls of the hallways and something must have struck the generator as the lights began to flicker in warning of completely going out. _

_Sakura, accustomed to rushing into danger zones to pull out victims as quickly as possible for treatment, was one of the first to arrive on the scene. She, along with half a dozen or so other medics, were confronted with the awful, unbelievable sight of a team of Konoha ninjas quickly and efficiently disposing of the few who had somehow miraculously clung to life in the blast zone. With the few stragglers permanently silenced, the unidentified ninjas turned to the nurses and doctors. Sakura had only an instant to recognize the ROOT uniform before she had to parry a katana aimed precisely for her jugular. She was aware of her medic friends being felled all around her, their orders and short cries dying on their tongues before they could even be carried out. Afraid to cause more damage to the structure of the hospital, Sakura felt extremely restrained in her ability to defend the place she had come to invest her heart and soul in. Denying herself the use of her inhuman strength, Sakura decided that evacuation of everyone in the hospital was a top priority. By removing the assumed targets, the attackers would be lured away from the hospital and, hopefully, Sakura would have received some back-up by the time that critical moment arrived to take them out._

_But back-up never arrived because an even bigger crisis had pulled the village's attention away from the chaos consuming the hospital. The patients had been successfully led out of the hospital and taken to the school not too far away. Sakura, attempting to lead the ROOT team as far away from the exits she was sure would be used by any struggling evacuee efforts, had successfully gotten them to chase her to the opposite end of the hospital. But they were fast enclosing on her, and when one of them flashed in front of her to cut off her escape route, Sakura knew she had to make her stand without any help. Sakura was able to hold her own for a short while, using shadow clones and chakra scalpels to dole out as much damage as she possibly could before fatigue from a full day's work in the hospital began to take effect and the six ROOT members overwhelmed her. _

They incapacitated her, and still Sakura has yet to figure out why. She did however learn what had distracted any help from arriving in time to assist her at the hospital: an assassination attempt on the hokage's life. An attempt that Sakura isn't certain has been successful. Danzo himself had paid her a visit on the first night of her containment. The old right-wing coot had told her in the smuggest of tones how Tsunade's alcoholism was such an unbecoming characteristic in a village leader and that she should be quite ashamed of her conduct.

Sakura knew poison was involved. Somehow, the hokage's personal collection of booze had been contaminated with a pathogen that very well near killed her. By now, it might have succeeded for all she knew.

Sakura held back a whimper at the thought, cursing Danzo to the bowels of Hell.

Supposedly, Danzo had coordinated the assassination attempt and the attack on the hospital with sightings of the Akatsuki near the village. But Sakura knew better. Not that she could out the wily bastard. He had ordered an "extensive investigation" of the damage done to the hospital and a tally had been taken of the lives lost. Sakura Haruno had been publicly listed among the causalities. Now, the fifth hokage was in a near death-like state, possibly about to slip away at any moment and her prized student was thought to be a tragic loss in a terrorist attack. Sakura saw nothing but red for the first few days of her captivity, and it wasn't just because of the Sharingan eyes she was horrified to discover Danzo had outfitted his body with. She wanted to rip him limb from limb and punch him into a crater the size of the moon. The only thing Sakura was grateful for was that Naruto was out of the village with Jiraiya during the takeover. Hopefully, word had somehow reached him to stay away from the village. Danzo had no tolerance for the jinchuriki and his coming to power could only mean trouble for her loud, blonde friend.

Sakura could only guess at how her friends were fairing under the new regime. They certainly couldn't be happy with the new change of power, but as far as Sakura could tell from the cool demeanor of the occasional ROOT member who stopped by her cell, things above the surface were running smoothly for Danzo. _And why shouldn't they? He's only led everyone to believe that the true hokage is too weak to protect the village from a few Akatsuki ambush attempts._

Danzo's very existence took safety out of the meaning of home. He was manipulative and willing to sacrifice a few loyal shinobi to meet his own goals. Sakura was itching with the need to break free (and possibly fleas, as the old man didn't see fit to honor the "dead" with any hospitality) and personally deliver the murderer to Death's door.

"Watch your back, old man," Sakura grumbled to herself, her chin dipping down to her collar bone as her head fell limp with wooziness. She might as well sleep, it was her only means of escape right now.

_**You're absolutely riveting when you're upset, my dear. Much too entertaining for your own good.**_

Sakura's head snapped up as if a jolt of electricity had just passed through her body. There it was again - that voice that would occasionally speak up just as she began to get comfortable with being alone.

Many a time she had been tricked into thinking it was Danzo, come to taunt her, but the old geezer must be too preoccupied with maintaining his deceitfully attained throne as he had neglected to come by since his first and only visit. This voice alarmed Sakura to no end, it was incredibly close and yet she saw no one, sensed no one. She was on a separate side of the building from the rest of any captives the Leaf had before or since Danzo's coming to power. The walls were at least five meters thick of concrete and reinforced with a sound absorbing jutsu so she couldn't possibly be picking up on anything anyone else was saying on the other end of the security ward.

Which led Sakura to one conclusion: she was slowly starting to crack-up.

_Good. Let Danzo and his precious brain-washed lapdogs deal with a deranged kunoichi._

But the voices still scared her a tiny bit, though she hated to admit it even to herself in the privacy of the all encompassing shadows of her prison. Sometimes, there seemed to be more than one voice that would speak to her, never at the same time with another voice, but she could definitely pick out subtle differences from time to time.

Worst of all, she thought one of them sounded familiar. _But that'd be impossible!_

Deciding she had nothing to lose at this point, not even her dignity, for speaking to voices that may only be trapped inside her head, Sakura struggled to stand. It was a much harder feat to accomplish than it should have been. The once healthy, blossoming pink-haired medic was now bordering on mal-nourished and her knees wobbled in the effort to support her weakened frame. Danzo's attempts at information extraction had left her bruised and bloodied, and Sakura couldn't even remember what it was he was searching for. It could have been nothing. He might have just been taking her out of her cage for an occasional beating.

Sakura wouldn't put it past him.

Groaning as her stiff joints crackled in protest at the strain, Sakura hobbled over to the front of her cell.

_**Careful, darling. You might hurt yourself.**_

The voice was mocking her, she could hear the laugh just barely contained and her rising anger cleared enough of the fog in her brain to lash out, "Show yourself! I'm sick of your chatter. Stop hiding like a coward and I'll shut you up permanently."

Sakura knew she was all false bravado, she knew the voice inside her head knew it, too. But Sakura had reached the point where she simply didn't care if she was calling trouble to herself. She welcomed it. Anything had to be better than her current predicament.

_**Soon enough.**_

Sakura could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand on end and her scalp was tingling. That wasn't what she had expected to hear, and now the once proud medic was quickly deflated, falling to her knees on the spot. The cold dampness from the cobble stoned floor soaked into her clothes. An inescapable chill had seeped into her bones, making them too numb and too heavy to move.

Sakura was fast approaching hopelessness. She was losing her will of fire.

* * *

Drip.

Drip.

"…_**a perfect specimen…beautiful."**_

"_**And a spitfire!...strength…three times her size."**_

Drip.

"_**Need to move out…collect…kill him."**_

Drip.

"…_**Bang!"**_

Sakura blinked slowly, her head feeling thick with sluggish thoughts. Someone was talking, but it's as though their voices kept going in and out - a bad channel on a wireless telecommunications band. Using her forearms, she manages to lift most of her torso out of the shallow puddle she had collapsed in, trying hard not to think of the possible bacteria swirling around in it like a spinning top of pick-your-lethal-disease.

She guessed she had been out for no more than an hour or two, although it was really just stabs in the dark at this point. She was only half-heartedly trying to keep track of time in a twisted game with herself of trying to will her mentor better. If she was still alive now…Tsunade-shishou had such-and-such percentage of a full recovery. If she lasted two more days, her chances went up by such-and-such percentage.

_What were those two going on about?_

She was certain there were two distinct voices this time around – the first time the voices had ever had a conversation with one another that didn't directly involve her, although she had a feeling they were discussing her at some point. These two voices were both different from the one that had spoken earlier, however. The one that had promised he'd show himself soon.

A shiver down Sakura's spine peppered her skin in goose bumps. That voice had an unforgettable feel behind it, much more powerful and malignant than the two that had just woke her up. If she never met the owner of that voice, Sakura would thank her lucky stars.

Not that she thought she had any at the moment.

"Why can't you shut up and leave me be?" Sakura managed to get out past cracked lips and a bone-dry tongue.

**Now, where would the fun be in that, love?**

Sakura's eyes went wide, pupils dilating to mere pinpricks as something deeply primal within her told her to run. She could almost feel black tendrils of killing intent separating from the shadows to ensnare her.

"Hey, ROOT lackeys, a little water would be nice, you know?" her frantic complaints reverberated through the three inch steel bars along the front of her cell.

Sakura was thirsty, but she had little hope of having her needs met. She was just hoping to stir up enough commotion to draw some attention from any ROOT members on guard duty. _Please, there has to be someone on patrol at all times, right?_

"Come on! I'm dying of thirst down here!" Sakura gripped the steel bars, her knuckles turning white, giving away her distress.

_I will not beg for help, but Kami, it'd be nice if one of them was actually around when I want them to be._

_**You sound frightened, little girl.**_

Sakura's lips trembled. Another one. How many were there?

Panting heavily from the adrenaline building up in her system and without a means to release it, Sakura clutches her head, strands of hair snagging around her fingers and being painfully pulled taut from her scalp.

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

Her lips move rapidly, soundlessly repeating those words like a mantra. She was strong, if not physically so at the moment, at least mentally. That had always been _her _thing. She couldn't go insane; she couldn't give Danzo the satisfaction of completely breaking her even if she would be making a nuisance of herself for his flunkies.

_**You have me worried, doll face. Has all the fight gone out of you? Such a pity.**_

That voice! Sakura's eyes narrow to slits of molten emerald, burning brightly with the beginnings of fever. She had heard it earlier having a conversation with one of the others. But, realization dawned on the kunoichi, she had heard this particular voice before. It was as delightfully soft on the ears as velvet was on the skin, and she had _hated_ it.

_It can't possibly be – I got rid of him!_

Wishing to drown out any more voices thinking of speaking up, she strikes up a lively hum to a tune she had all but forgotten from a circus she had seen on a mission back in her genin days.

_**I think she's broken, yeah?**_

The humming increases in volume and energy.

_**He'll be properly taken care of for not meeting our arrangement to full satisfaction.**_

Giving up, Sakura releases her grip from the bars, painfully stretching out her fingers from their curled, claw-like contortions.

Staring at her hands, Sakura can't help but frown at what she has become.

_I've been reduced to some kind of creature now. Too weak and too stupid to do anything. Tsunade-shishou…I'm so sorry. _

She wants to kick herself for being so pathetically weak, but at the same time she just feels like drowning in her own self-pity…Or maybe one of the many puddles dotting her living space like putrid oases.

A small scuffling noise causes her to perk up.

_Are the guards finally coming?_

But it wasn't a guard come to berate Sakura for her insolence and threaten her with bodily harm if she didn't settle down. It was only her cell mate, the little white spider, back from one of its brief ventures of freedom. She was starting to become attached to its presence, likening it to a pet and even referring to it as _her _spider. Yet, at the same time, her disdain for the little creepy crawly was mounting each day as it had the freedom to go where it pleased. Why it would ever return back to her cell was beyond Sakura, but she supposed some spiders might find the dark, depressing atmosphere of a prison quite suitable.

The spider was on direct route for Sakura and she watched with rapt attention (if not slightly disgruntled) as it tentatively tapped her boot with a single, delicate limb before making a spiraling climb up her calf. Before she knew it, the albino spider had scurried up her side without so much as a tickle, and come to rest on her shoulder. Afraid to make direct eye contact with the thing, and not at all comfortable with it being so close to her face, Sakura gingerly plucked the spider off and set it back on the ground.

She may have been too kind-hearted to simply squish the thing, but she would have never made it as a member of the Aburame clan.

* * *

The next day, or whenever Sakura chose to officially declare it as the next day, saw the bedraggled girl leaning against the bars of her prison cell. Better here, she thought, than hidden away in the misty grayness at the back of the cell. At least here she was closer to the torch light of the corridors and could spot approaching guards sooner from this position. This is what her days had come to, idly lounging on her butt, waiting for the guards to make their rounds – if they made their rounds. She was beginning to think Danzo had ordered she receive as little human interaction as possible. Receiving food and water only about every two, sometimes three days, she looked forward to seeing another person just as much (if not more so) than the prospect of partially filling her stomach or slaking the constant thirst scorching her throat.

"Ugly."

Rubbing her cheek against the bar she was resting against, Sakura didn't bother to look up.

Her teammate wasn't really there. It was just another hallucination like all the other voices that had preceded it, another sign of her rapidly degenerating health. Better to go back to the half awake/ half asleep dream-like state she was just in. Things were so much better in it.

"Don't be so weak, Hag. You're stronger than this," Sai's voice softens, only by a degree or so, but the difference was loud and clear to someone as perceptive as Sakura who had become somewhat of an expert in picking up on Sai's muted changes in emotion.

"Sai," Sakura breathes out the name, an overwhelming gush of relief to see a familiar, friendly face.

"What are you doing down here?" she continues, swiftly stamping out the ember of hope that her friend has come to release her.

A conflicted expression momentarily mars the blank canvas Sai has so expertly crafted from his training in Danzo's underground organization. Sakura rises to her feet, wincing at the stiffness in her bruised and deteriorating muscles.

"My apologies, but I am not authorized to release you. I've requested several times to be permitted to visit you, but only now has Danzo acquiesced, and that is on the orders that I see to your physical care. How are you fairing?" Once again the mask is pulled back down, complete with one of his phony smiles, this one lacking in sincerity more than usual. _A definite setback for him. Is this turn of events eating away at his resolution to stay loyal to the Leaf? To Tsunade-sama?_

"Oh just peachy, can't you tell? Please, extend my gratitude to Lord Danzo when you report back to him," Sakura chirps back, in a dangerously sweet voice, her true intent thinly veiled so even Sai can pick up on it. He says nothing.

"Does he trust you?" Sakura asks flatly.

"He will never trust me to the degree he once did before my time with Team Kakashi. However, because of my past service to him, I am at a more advantageous position than those who were adamant supporters of the fifth hokage."

Sakura nods, expecting as much.

"Wait! How did you know I was alive? That bastard came down here and told me how he had so expertly played the cover-up story of the hospital bombing. Everyone is supposed to think I'm dead," Sakura's brows furrow in confusion at the possibility that maybe the truth was revealed. And if her death had been revealed as a lie, maybe there was hope for her mentor as well.

"I saw them incapacitate you in the hospital. I could tell it wasn't a killing blow, therefore they had to be keeping you somewhere for some purpose. It's not a new trick for ROOT to spread the word that someone has been killed when in actuality they are being held in maximum security for interrogation," Sai explains, his eyes critically scanning over Sakura's form, focusing on the lacerations decorating her bruised skin.

But Sakura's mind wasn't on her wounds or the interrogation techniques used by Sai's old comrades, "You came to the hospital? I didn't think anyone came to help me."

Sai gives a small, affirmative nod, "There was another bomb of smaller scale set off in the hokage's office," Sakura's eyes widen, this was news to her.

"Its purpose was to draw attention, more than cause actual damage," Sai continues, "Kakashi, Yamato, and I heard the explosions and could see the smoke spilling out of the window from the training grounds. It was only on our way to the tower that we saw the damage done to the hospital. I broke off from them to investigate and they said they would send word for a team to be formed to help at the hospital. It just didn't arrive in time. Everyone was concerned with the hokage and by then the patients had been evacuated."

Grimly, Sakura nods. If only she could have held out a little longer! Sai would have backed her up long enough for more shinobi to arrive, and Danzo's plot would have had too many opposed witnesses to succeed.

_Even now, I still let the people I care about down._

Something of utmost importance occurred to Sakura and her handcuffed hands strike out between the bars, clutching Sai's wrist with such speed that even the blank slate known as Sai's face shows the slightest hint of surprise.

"What about…Naruto?" she asks, afraid to hear the worst.

"He hasn't returned yet. I believe it was Shikamaru who was able to locate him on his return trip from a mission and successfully warned him to keep his distance for the time being."

_Yes! Way to go Shikamaru! But wait – _

"And he actually listened?" A delicately curved, pink eyebrow arched dubiously.

"Jiraiya was with him. My guess is that he's been keeping a tight leash on Dickless so that he doesn't come charging in here with some half-baked plan to take down Danzo."

_More like no plan at all._ Sakura inwardly laughs.

"Sai…how bad is it out there?"

At first, Sai was confused by his teammate's question. What exactly was she referring to? But, upon observation of the dried tear tracks leaving clean trails on the otherwise dirt smudged face of this girl who, Sai thought, considered him a friend, Sai felt pretty certain that he understood what she was asking for.

"If you are inquiring about the village's acceptance of Lord Danzo as the hokage, there are highly mixed…" Sai hesitates on how to put it, "Feelings. The elder council members and the heads of some of the older established clans are in favor of his leadership as his way of doing things is more reminiscent of their times. However, there are still those who are loyal to Tsunade-sama. But it is not easy for them to have their complaints heard. In fact, it's actually quite dangerous right now."

"How is Kakashi-sensei? And Yamato – and the rest of our friends?" Sakura's voice rose in desperation of the need to know the fates of her loved ones.

Not for the first time, Sai felt something in his heart moved by the sincere kindness of the girl in front of him. Even here, from the confines of the Hidden Leaf's maximum security cells, it seemed that the first thing on Sakura's priority list was the well-being of her loved ones.

"Kakashi-san and Yamato-san are both banned from missions for the time being. They have been under surveillance since shortly after hearing you had been killed in the bombing. They were of course suspicious of Danzo and the ROOT from the start. As for your friends," Sai, unlike Sakura, was hesitant to claim them as his friends as he seemed to have trouble making those, "They are also finding Danzo's rule quite unpalatable. Many of them have been restricted to lower-ranked, menial missions that don't take them out of the village, mostly due to their affiliation with their senseis who were quite supportive of the fifth hokage. A few, like Shikamaru Nara and Neji Hyuga have tried to get into Danzo's good graces so that they could learn more about what he has planned."

Sai was unaccustomed to such lengthy explanations and was actually feeling a little fatigued by it all. But perhaps he, like Sakura, was feeling a little needy for human interaction as well.

"What about you, Sai?" Sakura's eyes studied his abnormally pale face, looking no different than usual but, perhaps she was just imagining it, he seemed a little worn out. His bangs were in need of cutting as they were almost down into his eyes, and his stance wasn't as tall and straight as normal.

"As I said, Danzo doesn't trust me like he once did. Ever since I came to confront him about covering up your death, I've been just as much a prisoner, too. I've been restricted to staying at the hokage tower for surveillance. They've taken my art supplies and try to make use of me by having me organize files of lesser importance during the day. At night, I'm kept in a holding cell, though it is admittedly much better than yours."

Sakura's mouth parts slightly, a silent cry of anguish on her lips, and she feels the prickling of tears although she knows her body can't afford to shed any in her severely dehydrated condition. Her friend was suffering because of her.

"Sai, I'm so sorry. You're stuck here because of me. This is awful, it's all my fau – "

"Stop crying, it makes your ugly face even uglier," Sai's smile relaxes a little at the corners, looking a little more genuine.

"I'm here because I made the choice to confront Danzo. I failed in getting you out of here, and ended up getting myself caught. The only reason Danzo has permitted me to see you is because he feels confident that nothing will come of this; it's a demonstration of his power over the both of us."

Sakura, realizing she had been gripping Sai's wrist none too gently for quite some time now, quickly releases her hold upon suspicion of the smooth metallic band she had noticed earlier, but didn't give much thought to. Now, she saw with dismay, her suspicions were confirmed. Sai's wrists were adorned with chakra suppressing bands. The polished blue surface of each band gleamed in the torchlight.

Afraid this revelation could do worse damage to Sakura's already low spirits, Sai felt the need to distract her.

"Right now, however, many who would willingly oppose Danzo simply don't see it as an opportune time. The Leaf needs a leader, and despite the methods he used to attain the title of hokage and his more archaic views of how the village should be run, Danzo is capable of leading, and more importantly, defending the village now that Tsunade-sama is incapacitated. Right now, the people need that sense of maintained security. There have been numerous Akatsuki sightings around Fire's border."

Sakura was beginning to see how ill-timed – or well-timed from Danzo's point of view- this whole mess was. The people, especially the civilians, were in the dark as to how Danzo had actually been appointed hokage, and even if they did know the truth, many would probably be accepting of it when faced with the possibility of war. Especially since the public was under the impression that the hospital bombing and the attack on Tsunade already showed that there was a breach in security that the Akatsuki had taken advantage of_._

Sakura reached out once more to clasp Sai's hand between her two cuffed ones. There were no words shared, it was simply a moment of peace and comfort. Each of them needed that, even if one of them wasn't aware of it.

But Sai's well-attuned hearing picked up on the approaching footsteps, and he knew his time with Sakura "in private" was over. He had been promised ten minutes, no more. The two ROOT guards that had come to escort Sakura (along with Sai) had "politely" waited around the corner of the corridor. Sai could only hope the distance coupled with their hushed voices rendered their conversation unintelligible. It was probably too much to hope for, but at worst Danzo would only be able to confirm what he already suspected: that Naruto was keeping his distance at some unknown location with the Sennin, Jiraiya, and that a few of the shinobi from Sai's and Sakura's generation were trying to get close to Danzo to figure out what else he was plotting.

As the ROOT guards silently came up behind Sai, flanking him on each side, Sai gave a light squeeze to one of Sakura's hands, the most he could do to reassure the kunoichi.

"I'm sorry, Sakura, but we have to go now. Danzo has ordered you to be cleaned up."

Sakura felt more exhausted than she ever had in her entire life. Every muscle was sore, every bruise screamed at the lightest, feather-like touch. The chill in the air no longer bothered her, and that was worrisome. Numbness had set in along with the slight delirium from her fever. Only now was she certain that Sai wasn't an illusion. No way would her mind conjure up ROOT ninjas to plague her.

Still, Sakura had to admit that a bath would be welcome. Sure it wouldn't be as luxurious or relaxing as the ones she spoiled herself with after a long day at the hospital, but it had to be better than rotting in her own stench. Even if she was only offered a hose to spray herself down with, she wouldn't complain.

_Water. So thirsty._

She couldn't even think in full sentences anymore. Her head felt hot and heavy, and the ROOT members quickly assessed that the once fierce, proud kunoichi that had punched and screamed until they knocked her into unconscious oblivion, was now a mere ragdoll. They signaled Sai to pick her up, and he marveled at her weakened frame. Sakura had already lost a lot of weight from her two weeks of captivity. Gingerly, the artist bundled his friend up into his arms, her head flopping against his shoulder.

'_I'm sorry, Sakura,' _Sai's thoughts turn sullen,_ 'Flowers need sunlight.'_

* * *

_The…light. It hurts. My eyes. Burning._

_Red eyes._

_On fire._

_Staring, hungry eyes._

_Murderer's eyes._

_Run!_

Sakura's body jerks involuntarily, trying to escape a demon that (she hopes) is only in her nightmares. However, Sakura observes, the light is very real.

The pain the light is causing her eyes is also very real.

Using the heels of her palms, Sakura rubs at her eyes, now streaming in irritation. Her time down in the bowels of the hokage tower must have dramatically increased her sensitivity to bright light. Still only half awake, Sakura is able to take in two things quite quickly.

One, she is sitting in a body sized container. Two, she was wearing nothing but the skin she was born in and an unhealthy coating of grime.

_What the He - ?_

Sakura protectively huddles her legs up to her chest. Two women dressed in sterile, white uniforms are busily balling up her tattered clothes into an old sack, most likely sending it off to be burned. It saddens her to see the familiar red, if not severely faded, vest that sports the Haruno clan symbol on its back being crammed unceremoniously into an old, potato sack-like bag. But she can't mourn its dishonorable departure for long as the two women come at her, armed with all manner of soaps and scrub brushes.

After enduring the invasive and thorough cleaning of the two women whom Sakura assumed to be part of ROOT's own medical core, Sakura was left to soak in her bath – a putrid, nearly pea green colored liquid was helping to relieve her soreness (that was thanks in part to being scrubbed raw).

_Must be some kind of herbal medicine added to the bath salts._

Sakura raised an arm out of the water to smell her skin. Despite the distinct plant-like scent, it definitely beat her previous stink. Sighing, Sakura rolls her neck, grimacing at the series of pops. Her surroundings are rather boring, if not a bit eerie in their simplicity…as well as the knowledge that she's actually still in the underground prisons. The room is small, nearly a perfect cubicle of white tiled walls and a gray, cement floor with a small bath tub in the center. She mentally cringes at the thought that other criminals – true criminals – had bathed in this same tub.

Trying to put such thoughts out of her head, and really all thoughts, Sakura sinks down into the water with her chin barely skimming the surface. With her eyes lazily roaming about the room, not really settling on anything in particular due to all the whiteness, Sakura would have never noticed her guest. Then again, she never really did notice it until it wanted to be seen.

"Well, well. What do we have here? So this is where you go when you decide to leave me to talk to the walls."

The little white spider was perched on the chrome faucet, its little spindly legs twitching as if in response.

"Hmph, I don't know why you'd ever return to that cage. I have no choice; in fact, I'll probably have to go back there in a few minutes."

Depressed, she sinks even lower, holding her breath until the water line is just below her eyes. Her pastel pink hair had darkened in the water, turning a rosier hue; the ends of her hair floating around her, creating a protective circle around her submerged shoulders.

Blowing bubbles in the water like a little child, not caring that the water probably tasted awful, Sakura fixes the spider with a piercing stare. Her mind was still addled with the drugs her interrogators had pumped into her veins a few days ago to make her pliant and unable to put up a fight.

"I'll have to live like a caged animal. I'll have to go back there. Back into the cold, dark…"

Sakura's voice drops off as her thoughts seem to slow down, returning to that one image that had haunted her since the attack on the hospital.

_Sakura knew there was no getting out of this. She had gambled on the assumption that she could buy enough time for back-up to arrive, but just like her mentor she had no luck. With six ROOT shinobi surrounding her, she could only hope to land a few well-placed strikes to take one or two of them out. Then, she'd most likely be killed here in the rubble of Konoha Hospital. Just as she raised an arm to block the kick aimed at her face, Sakura saw a dark figure standing just a few feet beyond the entrance of the hallway behind the enemy she was engaged with. He, for this person was of substantial height and build, was merely watching the fight, out in the open. The lights in that hallway had been taken out in the blast and live wires shooting sparks were dancing close to his head, but the person didn't seem the least bit concerned. They just leaned one shoulder against the wall, arms crossed, passively observing. _

_For that split second in which Sakura raised her arm to shield herself, her eyes clashed with the eyes of that shadowed stranger. His eyes bored into hers with such intensity that Sakura was afraid she had turned into stone at that very spot. They were the crimson red of fresh blood and seemed to glow in a face that was otherwise cast in shadow. _

_But Sakura didn't have much time to study this figure. As soon as she made her block, another shinobi sliced her cheek with a kunai and her full attention was back on the fight for the few more moments it carried on before she was dealt a blow to the head. She was stopped right in her tracks before she dropped straight to the unforgiving floor._

"No. NO!" Sakura's voice echoed back at her, bouncing off the tiled walls and humming through the air.

Looking at the little spider that hadn't moved from its post, Sakura decides to address it so that she feels a little less insane than she would if she was talking solely to herself.

"I can't do it. I can't go back into the dark. He'll get me. _They'll_ get me. All those voices. Always talking. Trying to get to me, to break me down – but they _can't_! I won't let them!"

Panting, Sakura doesn't even notice she's upset the water in the tub and some splashes out onto the floor.

_**Calm down. You're being foolish.**_

Sakura nearly gasps in shock.

_No! They can't follow me here! Not in the light. I should be safe here._

_**This is all going to be for nothing if she ends up insane, yeah.**_

_**There would still be some value in her. According to the bingo book, her head is worth a respectable sum.**_

_**Enough! That is not why we've gone through with this. Her sanity will not be compromised, but more importantly her health is to be of prime concern.**_

_**That fucking ship might have sailed. Bitch is messed up.**_

"No, go away. You're not supposed to be here. I don't w-want to go crazy," Sakura's voice quivers, her nerves completely on edge. She scrunches her eyes shut, hating the darkness, but trying to focus on the voices in her head so she can force them out. Sakura can feel the tears tracing burning streaks down her face before they plummet into the bath water with a _plip plop_.

_**How much longer before you retrieve her?**_

_**Tomorrow night was the agreed upon time, yeah. But I say who gives a damn? That old bastard certainly hasn't honored our arrangement to the letter, yeah.**_

_**Hn. Don't be so brash. **_

_**Like I care what you have to say, yeah. **_

Sakura was shaking, and it wasn't because of the barely lukewarm water.

"Go away. PLEASE," her shaky voice begged between clenched teeth.

This wasn't a good sign. More voices were talking all at once. To Sakura, this meant she was steadily losing the battle to stay sane.

_What have they done to me?_

_**For once, I must agree. Time is of the essence here. We cannot afford to wait any longer.**_

_**Che. It's a wonder she hasn't fucking offed herself yet.**_

_**Fool!**_

A chorus of voices hisses in derision at the one's suggestion.

But Sakura perked up, her face lifted out of the water as her eyes danced around the room, searching.

_Nothing. They've literally left me with nothing._

But the seed had been planted in her thoughts, and spread quickly like the most diffusive of poisons. She could still take back control. Her final action would be the biggest "fuck you" to Danzo she could manage in her current state.

She realized that her death wouldn't in any way unsettle the old geezer, but it would make a mockery of his control over her. And with her cloudy thoughts, Sakura really couldn't think too rationally about the likely possibility that she would one day be freed – that Naruto and Kakashi wouldn't just idly stand by as she was left to rot in prison.

All she could focus on was lashing out against Danzo and getting rid of those voices; those voices that would sometimes whisper scary sweet nothings to her when she was curled up on the floor of her cell, crying softly.

It needed to stop.

That's when the haze in her brain lifted enough for her to realize two things. One, she was in a tub filled with water. Two, she had been left alone.

It was quite simple really.

Sakura raised both hands out of the bath, watching the water leak out between her fingers and barely cupped hands. This was all she needed.

Reclining against the tub, she stretched her neck back to rest on the lip of the tub and stared sightlessly at the ceiling. With eyes glazed over in thought, she had completely forgotten her little spectator on the faucet.

_It wouldn't be that difficult at all, really. Good-bye, Danzo, you bastard._

Sitting up straight, gripping each side of the tub tightly (she had been relieved of her cuffs in favor of bands like Sai's), Sakura eyes her reflection in the murky green water and nods at herself.

_ Be brave._

The light reflecting off the chrome faucet near her head attracts her attention for a split second and she grins at the little spider.

"See ya, little guy, I found my ticket out of this dump."

With that final parting, the girl plunges her head beneath the surface with the intention of never coming up until someone hauled her lifeless body out of the tub. A loud splash echoes throughout the room.

_** Sakura!**_

_** You stupid little girl! **_

_Sshhh. Just a little bit longer and you'll be gone, too._

Sakura was starting to feel uncomfortable, the need for oxygen rapidly making its presence known as she started to get light-headed and it felt like someone had taken a match to each of her lungs.

_It's ironic really, how drowning actually burns. I thought it'd be more peaceful…_

The trace of a smile moves Sakura's lips.

_Take this Danzo! Now you really will have to find a place to hide my body._

_**Brat, you listen to me. I will not tolerate your idiotic thinking. Get out of the water now!**_

She liked that the voices were more hushed now, like they were coming through layers of cotton fluff. They sounded angry.

_ Good-bye Tsunade-shishou, I'm sorry I failed you as an apprentice. You were an amazing teacher and you gave me someone to look up to._

_ Sai, Yamato-san, Ino-pig, Kakashi-sensei…I'm going to miss you all._

_ Mom and Dad…I love you both so much. It's awful for a daughter to do this to her parents, but I guess you've already been lied to about my death. I'm sorry for that._

_ Naruto, you better get rid of Danzo and become the next hokage like you're always blabbing on about. Konoha needs someone like you. And…don't worry about your promise to me anymore, please. It's for the best._

_** Damn it! That little shit isn't listening, is she?**_

Sakura's prone form lay stretched out on the bottom of the tub; she had flipped herself over to be face up so she could open her eyes and see the bright light reflected off the surface of the green water. She could almost pretend she was encased in a giant emerald.

Her lungs were on fire now, and Sakura was barely conscious enough to form articulate thoughts. Those voices were getting pretty panicky right now, shouting her name, but she didn't respond. At least, not until _that_ particular voice spoke up…

_**Child, every action has a consequence. You have forced me to play my hand. Do not think this will go unpunished. **_

It was that voice again, the one that promised Sakura that they would meet "soon enough," and had mocked her the day before when she asked all the voices to shut up and leave her be. This voice was the darkest, most malignant one of all; Sakura actually felt as though the mere voice had a presence about it, and that thought was not in the least bit comforting.

_**I said we'd be seeing you soon, dear. And if anything, I'm a man of my word.**_

Sakura gasped in fear, and this of course caused her to draw in huge gulps of water that only further damaged her aching lungs. But she had little time to do more than scratch at the sides of the bathtub walls before she was nearly deafened by an explosion above the surface.

Stunned from the sound and weak from nearly drowning herself, Sakura struggles to break the surface, but it was as if she had lost control of her limbs and she was quickly blacking out.

"Sakura!"

_This is it._

Sakura felt something pull on her hair, but lost consciousness just before she could discern what was happening.

* * *

"Sakura? Saaakuuuraaaa? Wake up, Hag."

Automatically, Sakura's previously limp hand extended out to the side to meet the annoying wake-up call with her fist. Luckily (for her victim), Sai had anticipated such a reaction and had carefully distanced his seat from the sleeping kunoichi.

"Wha –What happened?"

"You attempted to drown yourself," Sai replied somberly, his voice quiet. Even he knew that suicide was a delicate subject in conversation.

"I – I guess I did, huh? But, then what happened?" Sakura was confused, but her thoughts were much sharper than they had been in days. The drugs must have finally been cleansed from her body.

"That's a bit difficult to answer. There is currently an investigation underway as to what caused it, but it seems there was some sort of explosion. That's what drew our attention, and when I ran to see if you were hurt, you were at the bottom of the water. I had to pull you out and a medic was rushed in to perform CPR."

Sakura nodded, showing she was listening intently.

"Wait. You're the one that found me in the tub?"

"Yes, I was the first to arrive on the scene and had to pull you out of the water because you were drowning," he answered a bit confused as to why she needed clarification on this minor detail.

**Smack!**

Sai gingerly rubbed his sore cheek with his finger tips, a completely baffled expression on his face as indicated by one slightly raised eyebrow.

"That's for seeing me naked," Sakura huffed, slightly appeased to see a blazing pink handprint blossom on Sai's abnormally pale cheek.

With that fake smile on his face, Sai replies, "Calm down, Ugly. It's not like there was much to see anyway."

** Smack!**

A matching handprint bloomed to life on his other cheek.

Sakura haughtily crosses her arms over her chest and notices she was clad in a plain blue robe. She appeared to be lying on an examining table.

"So, what's on the agenda now? I've been thoroughly cleaned and brought back to life just so I can go back to rotting in the dungeon, am I right?"

Sai actually looked pained at Sakura's nonchalant words, knowing she was just trying to put on a brave face and act like none of this bothered her – like she hadn't almost killed herself just to escape.

"I'm afraid so," he replied, clenching his fists even tighter against his knees, "But, Sakura, please do not despair completely. This whole thing with Danzo as hokage can't possibly last for long. I've even overheard talk of Tsunade-sama's unexpected recovery."

Sakura blinks, the good news taking some time to register, but then a true smile brightens her face and the stirrings of hope flutter in her chest.

Sai rises from his chair, informing Sakura that there is a pile of clothing on the corner table for her, and that the guards will come for her shortly now that she is awake. He parts ways with his pink-haired friend, content with seeing her mood uplifted by the news of Tsunade's returning health. Sakura looks up from the pile of clothes she was left and notices Sai's hesitance to open the door and leave.

"You have to go back to your own prison now, don't you?" she asks sadly.

"Yes, it's night now, so they'll be locking me up soon," Sai's fake smile is expertly held in place.

Sakura climbs off the examining table and embraces Sai, her arms wrapping around his back for a tight hug. Uncertain how to respond when it comes to physical contact, Sai awkwardly raises an arm and brings his hand to rest in the middle of his teammate's back for a one-armed hug. Sakura smiles to herself at the effort while Sai realizes that he doesn't mind hugging so much – it was quite warm, actually

"Ok, then," Sakura says softly and they both release each other, "This is good-bye for now. I expect to be seeing you soon."

Sai gives a short nod in affirmation, "Of course."

Turning, he reaches for the door handle when Sakura's voice calls out once more, "And Sai…thanks for coming to my rescue."

He pauses in the doorway once more, but with his back turned, Sakura can't see the real smile playing across his face.

"Anytime."

With that said, the door closes gently behind him, and Sakura turns to examine her clothing briefly before getting dressed in the plain attire.

_ At least they tried to replace my red vest…I guess they deserve some credit._

She rubs the material of the solid red sleeveless shirt between her fingers. Just as she finished putting on her own shoes that hadn't been deemed necessary to replace, the guards entered without knocking, and Sakura was wordlessly herded back to her familiar dwellings.

_Home sweet home. _The kunoichi's dry sense of humor helped her to ignore some of the lingering depression.

Hearing the grating sound of her prison cell's door swinging closed, Sakura's expression droops even further and she sighs before carefully picking a spot to sit down that isn't too damp and dirty. However, if one good thing had come of her near death experience, it was that the voices had yet to make their presence known. Perhaps they had merely been in her head, an annoying side effect from the drugs.

_ Still, what I wouldn't give to see the sky right now._

* * *

Something causes Sakura to awake with a start. Unsure of what it is, for she can't see anything out of the norm nor can she hear anything, Sakura stands up to take a look through the steel bars and down the dimly lit passageway. Yet, there is nothing and no one. Puzzled, she turns back to look at her cell, but it's just as devoid of life as before. Not even the little white spider was present. Thinking she was just paranoid, and reasonably so considering her circumstances, Sakura was about to return to her spot when a pained yell broke the heavy silence of the prison. Sakura spun around and dashed to the door, doing her best to get a good view either way down the length of the hall. Still, there was no one in sight.

But, she was troubled for the scream sounded like it came from some distance away. She wasn't supposed to be able to hear much outside a short perimeter of her cell due to the sound absorbing jutsu placed on all prison cells. This could only mean that someone had broken the jutsu. Someone was forcing entry into the maximum security cells.

_Someone is coming for me. Please, let it be Kakashi-sensei or Yamato-san. Even Naruto. Just don't have him get caught._

Holding her breath, Sakura strains her hearing, and is soon rewarded with a scampering, skittering sound. It was something like hundreds of little legs moving at once and it was fast approaching her - as was the sound of someone's speedy steps as they sprinted down the stone corridor to her left. Every few seconds she glimpsed a flash of someone racing her way, running through the pools of light cast off by the torches mounted on the wall. But, it wasn't the guard who seemed to be racing for his life that concerned Sakura so much as it was the small white wave that appeared to be pursuing him.

_What the hell is that thing?_

It wasn't liquid, whatever it was. It seemed to be made up of many individual, solid components. Aghast, Sakura watched as several small white blobs shot out of the group moving in mass and attached themselves to the man's back. She could see his face contort in fear as he continued running, but more of the group sprang into the air, attaching themselves all over his body and slowing him down. As they flew through the air, Sakura thought she could almost distinguish little thin legs coming out from the bulbous bodies. Just forty meters from her cell, the guard went down, and even Sakura was afraid for him as he tried to pry off a particularly large blob that had crawled onto his head, its legs spreading around the width of his face and impairing his sight.

By now, Sakura had realized that the little white blobs were spiders. It didn't shock her any less.

That's when the swarm of arachnids detonated in unison and Sakura screamed in surprise and horror as a bloodied, dismembered hand smacked against the bars of her cell. Just a smear was left of the unfortunate shinobi on the floor. That… and a pile of white goop.

Sakura was slack-jawed, but had little time to feel sorry for the man's gruesome death because another guard was running towards her from the opposite direction, sans white wave hot on her trail.

This woman made it to Sakura's cell without incident, but Sakura noted the wild look in her eyes that meant she was actually terrified despite the blank expression. Something was after her, too. But her reflection was cut off as the woman made a grab for Sakura who was caught off guard and too slow to react in time. With a fistful of pink hair in one hand, the woman harshly tugged at Sakura's head, banging the girl's forehead against the bars. Sakura felt the edge of a kunai against her exposed throat and swallowed nervously.

"It's you they're here for and I'll be damned if I'm going to die because of it," the woman spat coldly in Sakura's face. But her frigid expression quickly morphed into shrieks of pain. Her legs buckled, and she fell to her knees, Sakura falling down with her so as not to be impaled with the kunai at her neck. She could see the blood seeping out of the calves of the woman who held her captive and, strangely enough, a purple liquid that was not unfamiliar to the young medic.

_ This can't be my team's doing. They don't fight like this, and they wouldn't try to brutally kill fellow Leaf Village ninja, even if they are from ROOT – not unless it's absolutely necessary._

Too quick to anticipate, a hand wielding a short katana made a smooth, deep laceration across the woman's throat, in a fluid motion reminiscent of a violinist holding a bow. The woman relinquishes her hold on Sakura's hair and the kunai drops from her loosened grip. Sakura immediately scoots back a few feet from the door and watches in morbid fascination as the woman collapses, choking on the blood gurgling in her throat and dripping from her mouth. She looks to the woman's attacker and her eyes bulge at seeing the standard ROOT uniform worn by the man holding the sullied katana at his side. He stares blankly straight ahead, at a point above Sakura's head and somewhere off in the distance.

Confused and weary of his intentions now that he had slain one of his own, Sakura rose to her feet in a defensive stance. She was still without chakra, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to put up a fight if need be. But, as it turned out, a fight wouldn't be necessary. Mesmerized by the oddity of it, she watched the man turn the blade on himself. With both hands, he plunged it into his midsection and fell to the floor, the sword penetrating through his back, red and purple spilling out of his lethal wound.

Sakura was beyond confounded now. She didn't understand what had caused the guards to panic and then turn on themselves, but she had a grave feeling it wouldn't bode well for her. Just as she thought this, the clacking sound of sandaled footsteps calmly walking down the hallway caught her attention. This time, Sakura carefully kept her distance from the cell's opening and waited.

A cloaked figure stood before her in the shadows between the torch light. Sakura frowned to herself at his precise positioning.

"My, my, it's been a while. Hasn't it, little girl?"

Sakura jumps back in surprise and trips over the uneven ground, falling on her rear. The stranger lets out a light chuckle, pleased with the mystified, shocked expression on the girl's face. Since she doesn't respond, he decides to continue, "It's good to see you at least clean up nicely. Although your mental state is yet to be verified."

His careful, annunciated drawl is like silk, and it is a voice that she has heard a lot of recently though she hadn't expected to ever since that fateful battle…

"No," she whispers quietly, "You should be dead…Sasori."

"Hmph. Did you really think a child and an old bag could kill off a member of the Akatsuki? Although, I must admit, you were capable of inflicting quite a bit of damage. Thanks to you, I've had to return to my human body," his voice turned slightly hostile, but Sakura ignored the threatening tone. She was too dumbstruck at the coincidence…or maybe the not so coincidental coincidence?

Sasori stepped forward towards the bars, and lifted his hood back in one fluid motion to reveal his characteristic red hair and large, sleepy eyes.

"What's the matter, dear? Not happy to see me? I would have thought you'd appreciate having the company," a smirk graced the puppet master's thin, well-sculpted lips.

Hastily getting to her feet, Sakura takes a few cautious steps forwards, "What do you mean by that? I don't want your company!"

She snarls at the Akatsuki member, and it reminds him of a little alley cat backed up against a wall with nowhere to run. He confidently closes the distance between them, effectively leaving only the prison bars to separate them.

"For all your ferocity and spirit, you don't hold up so well when you're by yourself, do you?" Judging by his cruel smile and tone of voice, she can tell the question is rhetorical, and she shakes with anger. _How dare he belittle me!_

"Oh, don't give me that look now, girl. I believe you resorted to talking to a mere spider?"

Sakura freezes, "How did you know about that?"

Sakura watches, her rage building, as Sasori has a short laugh at her expense, hating the musical quality even that sound has. Sasori reaches out a hand, cupping her chin tightly when she tries to pull away, and looks down into the kunoichi's captivating green eyes as she steels her nerves to face off with the Scorpion of the Red Sand.

"You silly child, you actually believed you were going crazy, didn't you? Thought you were hearing voices in your head? If I had known it would take this kind of toll on your mental health, I would have come up with a different way to keep tabs on you. Oh well, that's in the past now."

His careless tone had Sakura seeing red, and she raised her arm to punch the Akatsuki member in the face. But without her usual speed and strength, she was easily thwarted and Sasori, with an unamused look on his face, simply used chakra threads to halt her fist and bring it down calmly at her side.

"What the hell is this all about, Akatsuki? What did you do?"

"I suppose I've been intrigued by you, Miss Haruno, ever since our first encounter. I've been busily laboring to restore my once impressive collection that you so indiscriminately destroyed, but it's missing a few prized specimens now that I no longer have my favorites… I've come to collect you," he finishes with narrowed eyes.

Sakura fights to break out of his hold, but he merely moves his hand to yank back on her hair, effectively bringing her to a stop for fear of tearing off her scalp. With his other hand he effortlessly holds her banded wrists in submission. Sakura breathes heavily, trying to control her mounting anger so she can think up a plan to get out of this situation.

"And the voices? How could you possibly know about those? Unless you were responsible somehow…" Sakura glares at the redhead accusingly.

Sasori gives a small, good-natured shrug of his shoulders, "Well, I can't take all the credit. The little spiders were the craftsmanship of my partner. They were useful tools in collecting intelligence on Danzo, as well as checking in on you. They were convenient in size and form to inconspicuously conceal a communications device and could be made to seek out specific chakra signatures."

"So, I could hear you – and other Akatsuki – through the spider that was here so often?" the girl's pink eyebrows shot up into her bangs, realization dawning that she really had been hearing voices all that time, but they weren't the musings of an addled brain.

"Only when we wanted you to hear us," Sasori looks down at her with an air of superiority in his voice, "This entire plan was to indulge my desire to have you as part of my collection, but as time went by, the other members developed their own interests for acquiring you. What do you think Sakura? The demise of your beloved Tsunade-shishou was just so we could attain _you_," Sasori smirks, clenching his grasp on her wrists a little tighter.

Sakura holds back from wincing in pain, but her expression is strained.

_This is unbelievable. Danzo made a deal with the Akatsuki. He got the perfect opportunity to overthrow Tsunade-shishou in exchange for handing me over. No wonder the coup was timed so well with the recent sightings of the Akatsuki along the border. They were involved! And the explosions at the hospital – and in the hokage's office!_

Sakura was starting to feel a bit hysterical with the overwhelming new insight. It was just too incredible to think that anyone in Leaf would make a deal with the Akatsuki. _It really was a good thing Naruto was out of the village. I'm sure the Akatsuki wouldn't miss an opportunity to nab him._

Sasori studies the girl curiously; she hadn't responded to his jibe and was intently staring at the floor. 'But at least now I have you. And you will do well to remember that you belong to me,' Sasori thought.

Just then, a cheerful whistling met their ears and Sakura tried to turn her head in Sasori's hold to see who this new stranger was coming from the opposite direction Sasori appeared from.

"You kept me waiting long enough, brat," Sasori growls irritated, not bothering to turn and greet the newcomer.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't be so impatient, it took a while to find the key in all the…mess, yeah."

The new stranger comes into view and Sakura observes the tanned face, intelligent, blue eye, and trademark blonde ponytail of the Akatsuki named Deidara. _Sasori's equally psychotic partner. Great._

Noticing he has her attention, Deidara throws a grin her way and Sakura returns it with a smoldering glare that made it pretty apparent she was not pleased at all with the situation.

"Keep a hold on her, I need to release the seal before we can use the key," Sasori orders Deidara who tosses the key at him.

"Don't mind if I do, yeah," he replies more to Sakura than to Sasori, grinning suggestively at the kunoichi who scowls as he takes a firm grip on her wrists. She shivers when something slimy leaves a wet trail across the inside of her left wrist.

_ Oh Kami, I forgot he has mouths on his palms. Ew!_

Deidara smirks at Sakura's reaction, barely paying attention to his partner's hand motions as he went through the correct series of signs (obtained from one of the now dead guards) to release the seal.

"I don't think we've been properly introduced yet," he begins, "My name is – ''

"Stop fooling around, you pretentious brat. We have a mission to finish," Sasori interrupts, annoyed with Deidara's attempts to charm the kunoichi. Deidara discretely flips his partner off. Turning the lock in the key, Sasori swings the door open and enters, making Sakura feel even more like a caged animal now that she has an Akatsuki on either side of her.

Sasori forces Sakura to turn around and face him, with Deidara still keeping a firm (and saliva coated) grip on her wrists, pinned against her back. Glowering at the redheaded Akatsuki, her anger boiling over as she feels the breath of the blonde one on the back of her neck, Sakura is tempted to do something drastic.

"You bastards…I'm not going anywhere with you!" she strains against Deidara's hold, her emotions getting the best of her. All she can think of is punching the puppeteer's face in until he can no longer make that smug, self-satisfied expression.

He just rewards her futile attempts with a laugh.

"So, the fight hasn't gone out of you. Good. I'm pleased. However, what _you want_ really has no say in what is going to happen. From this moment forward, you can consider yourself property of the Akatsuki. You're mine to do with as I please," the legendary Scorpion of the Red Sand rubs in, taking pleasure in the way Sakura's face so clearly displays her disgust and loathing.

Commanding his partner to release her, Sasori attaches multiple chakra threads to her limbs and joints. To her utter horror and humiliation, Sakura feels her body moving of its own accord, bending into a graceful curtsy that she doubts she could perform so fluidly if she was in control of her own actions. Gritting her teeth, she spits at the Akatsuki who merely frowns in disapproval before spinning her around through control of the chakra threads.

"You'll learn soon enough that disrespect gets you nothing but punishment with me," he says, briskly following after Sakura as he walks her out of the cell.

"Ha, she's already got trouble to face when we make it back to base for her little drowning stunt yeah," Deidara adds, falling into step beside her and cheekily linking arms.

Sakura wanted nothing more than to twist the blonde's arm out of socket and then just snap it off, but try as she might, she couldn't break out of the chakra strings' hold. She knew if she had even a fourth of her chakra right now it wouldn't be an issue, but without being able to summon it to her control thanks to those darn bands, she could do very little to resist Sasori's manipulation. As it stood right now, she was literally a living puppet at his mercy- his and the rest of the Akatsuki.

"How long do we have?" Sasori asks.

"I'd say we safely have about three minutes left before the first cluster detonates," Deidara replies, his mood in high spirits now that their target was successfully apprehended. Sasori was uncertain which side of Deidara he found more annoying: the moody, eager for battle one that had been complaining all day they needed to hurry and get to Konoha, or the cheerfully carefree one that was currently on the verge of skipping down the corridor with _his_ new toy. Sasori was already frustrated with the future certainty that there would be contention over who had absolute authority over the pink-haired girl. He had been the one to approach the Akatsuki leader for permission to take a short stint from his normal duties so that he could collect the girl, but it wasn't long after his plan had been set into motion that it soon seemed like everyone else in the organization couldn't wait for her arrival.

"Very well," Sasori responds, forcing himself to push away thoughts of future headaches, "I'd say it's time for us to make our exit."

"You got it, Sasori no Danna, yeah," Deidara says calmly, reaching his free hand into the clay pouch at his hip and quickly setting to work molding the clay infused with his chakra.

Sakura's panic level was steeply rising to its peak. She was about to be swooped away by two Akatsuki members and there wasn't a darn thing that she could do about it. It didn't appear that any guards were going to come stop them either, then again, Danzo had made a deal with them, hadn't he? Cursing that man for the hundredth time that day, Sakura desperately searched the hallways they passed, but they were empty save for the tell-tale signs of gore that marked the Akatsuki's involvement. She climbed a set of stairs, essentially on auto-pilot as she was led by Deidara and propelled along by Sasori's chakra strings.

_I may never see home again. My friends, my family, everyone. Torn away from everything I've ever known._

_ I'll kill them. All of them. Right now, I might have to go along with this, but I'll find a way to break free. But not before I raise hell for the Akatsuki. And then, I vow I will return home and kick Danzo's ass so hard he'll be able to taste my leather boot._

Remaining silent, the kunoichi was far from satisfied with her plan, but it was the best she could do at the moment to try and keep herself from going hysterical over the reality that she was about to become Akatsuki's prisoner. The Akatsuki at her side thankfully released his hold on her and stepped forward to place a small bomb at the foot of the wall before them. With a small flicker of his hand and a passionate exclamation of "Katsu!" the bricks of the outer wall of the hokage tower crumbled and blew outward. Quickly, Deidara formed a large bird, and Sakura grudgingly had to admit that his sculpting was impressive, especially given the amount of time he did it in.

Oddly enough, though she knew she was being taken away and had seen with her own eyes that the Akatsuki member known as Deidara was capable of using his clay creations for aerial espionage, it had not dawned on her that that was going to be their mode of transportation out of the village. Yelping when Sasori controlled her to jump onto the bird's back, Sakura could do little to hide her shaking. It was a silly fear for a shinobi, true, but the thought of flying through the air thousands and thousands of feet off the ground made her weak at the knees with terror. Sakura could handle hopping through the tree branches of Konoha, but that wasn't so bad. Even if a person fell, the fall wouldn't kill any shinobi worth her salt. But Sakura's medical knowledge told her that no shinobi , no matter how strong, could survive a fall from the heights she was about to visit.

_You've got to be kidding me._

But Deidara had already leapt to the head of the bird without a second thought, well-versed in the art of flying as he was. Sasori shortly followed after Sakura, taking a seat behind where she stood frozen.

"What's the matter, kunoichi? Never flown before, yeah?" the blonde Akatsuki hollered back over his shoulder with a teasing smirk.

Sakura shot him an angry scowl in response, but her ferocity was marred by the small shriek of surprise that bubbled from her throat as the bird abruptly lifted into the air, picking up speed and altitude as it swerved through buildings on its way to the western gate.

Not being able to apply chakra to her feet to secure her footing immediately made itself a major disadvantage. Sakura was all but thrown off, but Sasori's attentiveness quickly had her contorting in midair and pulled back to the "safety" of the clay bird.

"Now it really would be a tragedy if you were to pitch yourself off the side after we just procured you," Sasori tsked in disapproval.

Shaken up, Sakura knelt on her knees, digging her hands into the clay sculpture for firm handholds. Deidara had moved, sitting backwards on the bird's neck and using its head as a back support. Amused, he watched Sakura try to relax enough so she could shift to a more comfortable sitting position.

"Need any help, yeah?" he asked, knowing it would only irk her more if possible.

"Like hell I need your help, Akatsuki," Sakura's words practically sizzled with acid, but Deidara wasn't deterred in the slightest from his source of entertainment.

Flash stepping in front of her (merely a calculated showing of his power), he looked down on the pink haired girl with his one uncovered eye dancing with cruel intentions. He really did like those green eyes of hers; her color palate was refreshing and she had the obvious signs of beauty that would meet the approval of Sasori no Danna. But Deidara especially appreciated her expressiveness, she didn't seem to hold in much, and if she tried, it still shined through pretty clearly in those eyes of hers.

Nudging her shoulder slightly with his foot (and hearing a low hiss of warning from his partner), Deidara points out, "I could easily push you off that way, yeah. You don't have a very good hold, and without chakra you're going to be completely dependent on that alone."

Sakura glares back, carefully rising to her full height so as to not be looked down on. Pride was a dangerous thing.

"Your point?" she bites out.

"Only this, yeah!"

Sakura felt her body shoved. For a second she was weightless, her feet losing contact with the clay, and she almost wanted to laugh at the surprised look on Sasori's face whose mahogany eyes were wide open for once. It seems he had relinquished his control over her, thinking she had safely found a hold on the bird, and not expecting his partner to pull such a ridiculous stunt.

The next second, Sakura was dropping like a lead weight to Earth with only gravity controlling her body. She didn't even try to hold back the scream that tore through her lips as wind pushed at her face and snagged her clothes and hair.

But a mere second after that, she landed firmly in a jumble of limbs and back in the company of her kidnappers. Specifically, right into the lap of the assailant who just pushed her over. Shocked, and trying to let her organs settle back into place, Sakura can only stare bug-eyed, mouth agape at the two Akatsuki.

She could feel Deidara's body shake with laughter and saw Sasori's pissed off expression, appearing thoroughly exasperated with his partner's antics.

Sakura could feel the intrusiveness of another's chakra entering her system, and a split second later she was up and moving to sit down beside Sasori near the tail of the bird. After Sasori berated his partner, Deidara returned to the head of the bird to properly pilot it to their destination.

_This is what it's going to be like with them. Whether or not Sasori has any intentions of turning me into a human puppet, my life is still going to be in peril every single second. I'm just an amusement for them, a new toy. And at any moment they might just decide to discard me on a whim._

_ On top of that, there were more voices than just these two that I heard…and that one. I don't want to meet that one. Ever._

The setting sun had already begun its descent for the evening, bleeding off a warm melt of pink and orange. It would have been a beautiful sight to admire on any ordinary day. Vaguely, Sakura thought she could hear explosions in the distance, somewhere far back where her home lay.

* * *

**Author's Note: Ok, so that's that! This is the first fanfiction I've ever written so please don't hold back on the criticism. Reviews are much appreciated, and advice on how to improve or even suggestions on what you'd like to see happen will be taken into consideration. I'm not fully sure where the inspiration came from for this, but I can say that Ellie Goulding's song "Lights" definitely played a part in it. The lyrics of the first four or five verses helped me find the right mood for the first half of this. Originally, this was intended to be a stand-alone piece centering around Akatsuki inadvertently making Sakura lose her sanity, but it kind of just kept flowing into something else a bit less psychological thriller-ish. This may or may not be continued, it's simply a matter of time and sustained interest (and inspiration) in the topic that originally sparked the idea for _You Give Me Fever_.**

**Also, for anyone who was curious, the opening line (in bold italics) was meant to be said by Pain while the voice that Sakura kept describing as the most evil of all belonged to Madara.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto. **

**Rated M: Due to coarse language, violence, and some adult themes.**

* * *

"Where are you, my little songbird, yeah?" the mocking coo echoes down the hall.

Sakura winces in irritation and slight panic. _Go away creep, and blow yourself up while you're at it._

Inhaling a sharp breath, she concentrates on staying calm and doing her best to not upset the stillness in the room she currently occupied. In the end, it wouldn't make a difference; she could keep pointlessly rotating from one "hiding spot" to the next, or remain here. Either way, she was still under the thumb of the Akatsuki. Not to mention, her current pursuer had the advantage of being able to detect her suppressed chakra and track her down while she was still without use of it and only had the five senses that all ordinary civilians possessed. While her hearing was a bit more attuned from training than non-shinobi folk, Sakura was frustrated at not being capable of sending the slightest bit of chakra to her ears to increase her range and sensitivity (those Akatsuki were ridiculously stealthy when they chose to be).

Sakura knelt on the polished cherry wood floor, a tatami mat laid underneath her knees as she sat squarely at one end of the low-seated table, facing the sliding paper screen doors in anticipation of her very unwanted visitor. Daintily, she picked up the tea cup she had been nursing for the last fifteen minutes; it was crafted from beautiful obsidian painted with painstakingly intricate designs of bonsai trees etched in gold – and it shook in the tremoring hands of the young kunoichi. Watching a grotesquely stretched shadow pass over the shoji screens in the dimly lit hallway, Sakura gave up on maintaining her cool, dispassionate demeanor and set down the cup without taking a sip. Her eyes fixed on the shadow that had morphed into the less ambiguous contours of the Akatsuki who had paused just outside the door.

Of course, she already knew who it was before he even stepped in. This one had played a direct part in her abduction and his voice was unmistakable, just like his partner's. Plus, it was only Deidara who referred to her as "songbird," a name that grated on Sakura's nerves because she was certain there was no true affection behind it. It was merely a taunt and a reminder to Sakura that all the Akatsuki were aware of her brief lapse in sanity during her imprisonment in Konoha. Deidara must have been one of the voices she had tried drowning out with relentless humming. She might have even sung a time or two, though honestly her memory was too fuzzy from that time to be sure.

Like a predator intently observing its prey, Sakura followed every movement of the new arrival. Her eyes tracked his shadow as he bent down to the ground, presumably to remove his sandals before he entered the room. Soundlessly, the door slid back on its track and the blonde Akatsuki's lithe form entered into what Sakura had claimed as her domain (though really, it was all just a big pretend).

After all, there had never been any doubt throughout this entire chase that she was the prey.

Deidara's tanned skin appeared even darker in the faint glow coming from the window at her back. His one visible eye, darkened to a deep azure, glinted dangerously. Sakura could only hope that the backlighting hid most of her features in shadow as she had positioned herself here specifically. Without a word, Deidara took a seat at the opposite end, crossing his legs in the proper manner as if the two of them were actually attempting to adhere to the rules of a proper tea ceremony. Sakura glared at him over the elaborate centerpiece that stood centered on the table. She had mainly chosen this particular room to keep to herself in because she had found it contained an alluring arrangement of white orchids spilling over the sides of its vase, with small red blooms she assumed to be of some local variety – wherever they happened to be – adding eye-popping bursts of color. Now she wished she had chosen a different room, after all, how trite was it that a girl named after a flower sought sanctuary in a room of flowers?

Deidara leans back on his arms, a cocky, close-lipped smile on his face, "Well? Aren't you going to offer me any tea?"

His eye glances down at the complete tea set stationed in front of Sakura's still figure, before roving over her form to finally meet her narrowed gaze.

Sakura allows the room to ring with silence for a moment before gritting out, "Serve your own damn tea."

An azure iris appears to get lost in a sea of white, but only momentarily. Sakura waits, stiff as a board, for the reprimand. The punishment. The killing blow.

But her tea time guest just chuckles, a light, false sound in the back of his throat. He doesn't even part that close-lipped smile of his, unsettling Sakura even more.

_I knew he had insane ideas about art, but this seems pretty unbalanced._

"You know, you can stop with the tough kunoichi act now, yeah. You're not fooling anyone with that impassive face. Especially me. I _know you_, yeah," Deidara's tone rises in intensity.

But Sakura's explosiveness, as the bomb expert had discovered, was nothing to scoff at. Enraged by his audacity she splays her hands flat on the tabletop, leaning forward with a posture not unlike a lioness about to pounce, she hisses, "Don't even think about saying you know me. You know _nothing_ about me, Akatsuki!"

Sakura's face is flushed red with anger and she can hear her pulse thudding in her ears. She had snapped first in this little battle, but really she felt she couldn't be blamed for it. She had only been in what she now assumed to be her permanent prison for around nine hours, the last eight of which she had been unconscious for.

So really, that's why she couldn't be held accountable for when she picked up a spare teacup and hurled it with all her might at the grinning Akatsuki's head before she could even process what she was doing.

But of course it didn't meet its target. Even though they were only separated by a mere five feet at most, Deidara dodged the flying tableware, his head cocking to the left to avoid a potential concussion. For all her efforts, Sakura was rewarded with Deidara sticking his tongue (the one in his mouth) out at her.

The cup tore through the screen door and Sakura could barely hear the shattering sound as it crashed against the wall on the opposite side of the hall. Almost comically, Deidara swivels his head around to admire the property damage and clucks his tongue to chastise Sakura's actions, "Kakuzu isn't going to be happy with you, yeah."

Before Sakura can formulate an appropriate comeback, her face is pressed against the table, and her puffs of angry breath momentarily fog the polished surface. With her left check being uncomfortably grounded into the wood, she can see Deidara's face surprisingly lowered to eye level with her own. With his other hand, he holds her two arms pinned behind her back and Sakura felt exasperated with how familiar this had become.

"But you see, Sakura, you're wrong, yeah. I got to know you quite well during your little stay in Konoha's prison. I got to hear your thoughts, your feelings, all unveiled for any listening ears. I heard you at your _angriest_," he continues quickly, excited, "I heard you at your saddest, your _weakest_. I got to know you in your most raw moments, yeah. Nothing was hidden."

Removing his hand from the back of her neck, Deidara traces her jaw line with a single calloused finger. Sakura's eyes widen at the gentleness coupled with the not necessarily kind words that seemed completely at odds with the gesture.

Continuing in a voice decidedly more hushed and, to Sakura's confusion, tender, Deidara says, "Sasori no Danna wants you for your beauty, and I'll concede that you're easy on the eyes, yeah."

Sakura suppresses a shiver of revulsion as this man who is an enemy to her home, playfully winds a strand of her hair around his index finger.

"But," Deidara releases the coil of cherry blossom pink hair, "He doesn't appreciate your emotions, yeah. His incorrect view on art blinds him to what constitutes as true beauty."

"What do you want from me? All this talk about art and beauty…what does it have to do with me?" Sakura wonders aloud.

"Well," he chuckles lightly, rising to his feet and bringing Sakura with him, "There are a lot of unsavory characters in this organization – '' Sakura scoffs at the understatement, "And you would be wise to keep your distance from them, yeah."

_Like I never would have figured that one out._

"But you and I, on the other hand, are a lot alike, yeah."

Struggling to tilt her head back enough to look him in the eye, Sakura's confusion is plain to see as she asks, "What do you mean by that?"

Keeping a firm grip on Sakura's hands, Deidara steps closer until his chest bumps against the back of her head. Sakura's instincts scream at her to run, but of course such instructions were pointless. She was already caught, and had been caught long before this man had intruded on her morning tea. Deidara can feel her body go rigid before him, and while smirking at her obvious apprehension, he can't help but feel a bit displeased by her outright aversion to him. Deidara's hands trail up Sakura's arms, and while she is thankful they don't leave a coating of saliva in their wake, she isn't happy with the goose bumps that rise to follow the Akatsuki's ascent to her biceps. She feels a tickle on the side of her face, and her eyes drop down to see a strand of golden hair dipping over her shoulder.

An instant later, Sakura startles against the feel of Deidara's warm breath against the shell of her ear as he whispers, "I know why the caged bird sings, yeah."

Sakura jerks away, but it doesn't matter. He had already relinquished his hold on the girl. Sakura barely managed to look up in time to see the shoji screen door slide closed with a _clack! _She was left standing up in her spot at the tea table, her face flushed a worrisome shade of red.

She was almost certain he had grazed his lips across her cheek.

_Bastard!_

* * *

_I know why the caged bird sings. Yeah! _Sakura mocks the Akatsuki, safe within the privacy of her thoughts (at least she now hopes she finally is).

_What does that even mean? Is it some kind of stupid code? He's so infuriating._

Throwing back her cup of now cold tea as if she were shooting liquor, Sakura clanks the drained teacup on the table and swipes the back of her hand across her mouth, too angered and flustered to bother with proper ladylike etiquette. Really, he hadn't answered her questions anywhere close to satisfaction, and had instead chosen to leave her with a puzzling farewell. Deidara, Sakura had a hunch, had unfortunately taken some level of interest in her for whatever reason. He had tried to tell her how she should avoid the other Akatsuki while simultaneously trying to suggest that he was suitable company. As if he didn't mean her any harm, ha! Shaking her head, Sakura fingers the sleeve of the silky kimono robe she had found waiting for her when she woke up this morning. It was a devilish maroon color with simple, black designs along the hem and cuffs, but what really steamed Sakura was the black scorpion emblazoned on the back in a circle of gold. She did not like what that symbol insinuated. Not one bit.

But she had had little other choice in the matter. Upon waking up she had found herself in a plain bedroom, the same one she could barely recall being led to the night before.

_After the little incident that had put her life in jeopardy thanks to her new blonde nemesis, the ride with the two Akatsuki was relatively tame. Deidara acted rather subdued after receiving a lashing from his partner's venomous words and Sasori seemed content to have their captive at his side and all in one piece. For a while, it was all Sakura could do to concentrate on keeping the stomach bile – for her stomach was mercifully empty thanks to Danzo – from rising up her throat. After a half hour or so, she was feeling confident that there would be no humiliating rebellion coming from her stomach so she dared to watch the scenery flash by in the waning light of the setting sun. That's when she began to pay strict attention to their flight path, inwardly badgering herself for not scoping out the landscape sooner. This information would be vital when she made her escape back home. But much to her dismay, she quickly observed that the Akatsuki steering the hunk of clay they were soaring on, actually knew what he was doing. Whether it was to lay false trails for possible trackers or to completely disorient Sakura from being able to memorize their flight path (Sakura was highly suspicious of the latter), Deidara was maneuvering through the sky in graceful loops and arcs, even taking a few hairpin turns that would've sent her airborne once again had it not been for Sasori settling a firm hand on her shoulder to hold her body in place. After being spun in every cardinal direction multiple times, Sakura agitatedly decided to abandon any attempt at strictly following their path and hoped that she would be able to rely on her knowledge of the terrains of the different lands to at least identify the nation she was being taken to. But it was not to be for just as a light drizzle began to descend from the night skies, she was knocked unconscious without a word of warning – and of course no apology. The last thing she saw before blacking out was Deidara turning back to look at her from his stance at the head, that cunning smirk back in place._

_She remembered brief flashes of consciousness as though she had fought to break out of the dreamless slumber Sasori's strike to the back of the neck had induced. She remembered floating, clinging onto thick fabric of black and red…until she made out the cloud insignia twisted up in her fist. The sight of it was just enough to give her a short burst of energy to break through the wooziness and she could remember thrashing about every which way and the angry voices trying to control her. Then she heard a pained grunt, not her own, and then she had the sensation of falling a short distance before smacking her head against cold tile. She had been so confused, her vision bleary from sleep, exhaustion, and a rather painful crack to the back of her head, but she remembered staggering to her feet and trying to distance herself from the furious voices beckoning her towards them, unsure whether there were really four of them or if she was starting to see double. But she didn't get far and her vision became filled with blonde and red that flanked her on each side. Her hands were taken hostage, her left by one warm and slightly wet, her right by one almost as small as her own with slender fingers. She walked in a daze like that for what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, her consciousness wavering in and out so sporadically that she knew the only reason she was getting anywhere was because of the two forces at her sides propelling her forward. Her right hand was tugged forward and she barely registered passing through an open doorway. The next thing she knew, she was laying on something soft. The sheets were cool beneath her skin and she turned to the side just to relish in the feel of the pillow cradling her head that was now pulsating with a dull ache. She glimpsed a digital clock on a table just an arm's length away and squinted to focus her fuzzy eyesight; it read 1:11. Dully, she thought to herself to make a wish._

_Home._

_Her view of the clock was obscured by fingers brushing hair out of eyes and she felt the cool touch of the back of someone's hand rest against her forehead. Cool air met her exposed legs and she realized someone had removed her boots. She could hear quiet murmurs, but couldn't discern the words. She couldn't resist the temptation of closing her eyes any longer and quickly lost the battle against sleep._

Waking up to the reality of her situation had been a nightmare. The vestiges of shell-shock were still evident in Sakura's mannerisms, but she had accepted the gravity of her current position for the most part. She had found a small bathroom to wash off the sick smell of Konoha's prisons that still clung to her skin and had only wasted two seconds in scanning the room barren of furnishings to figure out she would just have to put back on her dirty clothes. Or she would have, except an eye-catching pool of silk (which most certainly hadn't been there when she woke up) lay on the corner of her bed. Shivering, and not from the coolness of the fabric as she slipped her arms through the sleeves, Sakura observed herself in the bathroom mirror. Tugging at the hem and wishing it was at least long enough to cover her knees, she stopped when a flash of gold glinted in her reflection. After twisting and turning to get a good look at her back, the girl's eyes flashed with their own promise of torture for the presumptuous puppeteer.

She had been surprised to find that the door was left unlocked and unguarded.

_Cocky pricks. It'll come back to haunt them._

So, she decided to take off from her bland dwellings. Stepping out into the lengthy hallway, she found her room was near the corner of a junction, and she decided to test her luck with picking a path rather than continuing down the hallway with all of its imposing closed doors. But just as she had chosen to head down the empty hall that forked to the left, she heard the casual whistling – a little too casual to not be put on – of someone headed her way. Stifling the panicked gasp that threatened to give away her presence, Sakura darted into the room at the very corner, catching the door before it could slam shut behind her. From the seam of light seeping in from the crack under the door, she watched as two feet came to a stop just on the other side.

_Go away. Please just go away. Don't bother with me. _

Willing the stranger to go away and herself to give off non-threatening vibes if such a thing was possible, Sakura held her breath as the seconds ticked by and the shadow didn't move. But finally, just as she was on the verge of inhaling a huge gulp of much needed air, the feet moved and an unbroken seam of light signaled she was safe for the time being. The whistling resumed, back in the direction from whence it came.

Sakura had sunk to the floor in disbelief at her luck as well as the hysteria bubbling just beneath the surface of her skin. She was terrified. Despite the years of training to protect her home, she couldn't even protect herself. Worse still, she couldn't even contain her fear.

_And the enemy just walked away! I'm nothing to them, not a threat at all!_

All the old insecurities had come tumbling back to the forefront of her thoughts ever since Danzo's takeover. She hadn't had time to think about weakness while she trained in the sunshine under Tsunade's tutelage. During those times, she had felt anything but weak and helpless. She had felt capable. More importantly, she felt strong and she had proved herself to her mentors and her peers that she was a valuable asset to the Leaf's defense.

All that was dashed to hell when Danzo and the Akatsuki made their sordid deal.

Sakura still wasn't sure what was worse – hearing all those voices in her dank prison cell and thinking she was going crazy, or hearing her own niggling conscious in all its pitifulness and self-loathing.

When Sakura stood to take her leave of her temporary hiding spot, she cast a careless glance at the room's interior…

And promptly let out an ear-splitting scream.

Clamping a horrified hand over her traitorous mouth, she took in the half assembled figures hanging from ceiling hooks, some strewn on the floor in unsorted piles. Some were wooden…some were made of a distinctly more supple material. Sakura gagged on the cloying scent of death that seemed to permeate the very air she breathed. She thought she could taste it on her tongue.

Obviously, she had unwittingly stumbled upon the workshop of her deranged red-headed captor.

She was surprised that no one had come bursting through the doorway at the sound of her scream, especially when someone had already stopped outside the door.

_Whoever it is, they know where I'm at. They're just choosing not to do anything about it._

Without giving further contemplation for possible reasons behind the non-action of her kidnappers, Sakura flung open the door and tore down the hallway, realizing after a few purely terrified-fueled seconds of sprinting that it probably wasn't a good idea to be in an empty hallway with some unknown prowling around. The uniform spacing of doors was broken up on her left side by a set of shoji screen doors. Without hesitation she picked that as her destination.

Thus, the medic had found herself in the room with the beautiful vase of flowers and a small kitchenette-like area off to the side. Having little hope that it would actually help calm her nerves, Sakura had nevertheless set herself to the task of brewing tea and was surprised by the expensive tea set she found in one of the cabinets.

Now that she had survived her encounter with the mad bomber who had decided to crash her tea party, Sakura was at a loss as to what she should do or where she should go. He had left her to her own devices without so much as a warning as to not wander off or attempt any asinine escape plans. All he had given her to ponder was a confusing message, if it could even be considered a message.

'_I know why the caged bird sings.' _His words kept looping on replay through her thoughts.

Rising to her feet, the kunoichi left her dirty dishes out on the table for someone else to deal with. She didn't want to be a convenient prisoner by any means.

She examined the handiwork of her little temper tantrum and felt a small amount of sympathy for the screen door that was now ruined with a cup-sized hole, gaping wide like an open wound. She decided she might as well take advantage of the lack of restrictions Deidara had left her with and do a little exploring.

When you've fallen to Hell, the only way to go is up.

* * *

At least, that is what Sakura told herself with all the reassurance she could muster that first day.

Time passed by in a blur of red and black. Deidara had informed her that she was currently staying in one of many of the Akatsuki bases that dotted the map, although this one was particularly more accommodating than some of the others. So far, she had only had to deal with the two Akatsuki that had been sent to retrieve her, but Sakura suspected it wouldn't stay that way for long. She was also certain that the person she had almost been caught by on that first day when she ventured out of her room and found herself in the scorpion's lair was someone else entirely. It wasn't like Deidara or Sasori to just stop outside her door before moving along. They would come and go as they pleased whether she bid them entrance or not – not that they ever asked for it.

No, someone else was creeping through the Akatsuki base and they were stopping by as if just to assure she was still present and accounted for. Whoever it was, they were clearly letting Sakura know that they were there; their footsteps were purposely loud enough for her to hear them coming without the aid of enhancing her hearing with chakra. She knew they could be nothing more than a whisper of wind if they so chose. But they didn't.

And that made Sakura all the more uneasy.

Today was the closing of her third day as the Akatsuki's prisoner. Already, she had been treated much better than she ever had under Danzo's imprisonment, though it stung her to admit the Akatsuki were capable of humanity when they wanted to be. She just didn't know how much longer it would last.

Currently, she sat on the edge of the master puppeteer's desk, her arm extended to gently rest her hand in one of his own as he used his other to add a coat of nail polish to each freshly filed nail. If she ever made it back home to tell Ino about this whole ordeal, she didn't know if the blonde would find it more horrifying or hilarious. For whatever reason, Sasori has taken an interest in being her professional groomer; Sakura felt like little more than the pampered lapdog of some wealthy aristocrat's wife.

However, as Sakura glances down to observe the progress, she suspects the color choice being applied is partly due to Sasori's desire to mark what is his. Her hands now matched the hands that were painting her pretty. When she first entered Sasori's personal domain (which was unfortunately right next to her own minimal dwellings since she seemed to be housed in one of the rooms that exclusively belonged to him), she had voiced her curiosity as to why the Akatsuki bothered with nail polish. It was just so out of place for a renowned criminal organization. She thought she would have actually received an answer…had she not tacked on a snide comment about men who wore nail polish.

The two sat in silence, captor and captive. Though to an outsider it may have looked like their roles had been reversed; Sakura sits perched above him as Sasori sits on a low work stool, his head bent reverently over her hand. It was almost as if she was the master and he was the servant.

Sakura knew better than to entertain such notions.

Instead, she studies the books and scrolls neatly stacked on his desk, a few loose pages, written in what she assumes to be the man's own handwriting, catch her eye. They depict diagrams of the human body from different angles and Sasori had made a few notes in the margins though she didn't dare lean closer to make out the small, cramped characters for fear of alerting the puppeteer to her snooping. Not for the first time, she was plagued with worry over whether or not he intended to turn her into one of his animated abominations. Trying to halt that line of thinking, she studies the titles of the heavy volumes that sat next to her, noting with mild surprise that the vast majority were medical texts with a few books on botany thrown in. It shouldn't have been surprising to her that Sasori would own books of this nature considering his "art" required him to have extensive knowledge of human anatomy, but she couldn't help but feel a bit peeved that several of them were books she had carefully pored over in her spare time, doing whatever she could to sharpen her medical skills. That the two of them shared anything in common made her feel a little queasy.

Yet, at the same time she felt curious enough to find out what all this legend from the Village Hidden in the Sand knew. Despite his young face, he had been around a while and was obviously well-read in at least this particular field of study. She was tempted to pick his brain.

And by picking his brain, she half meant it in a literal sense, complete with blunt, rusty scalpels while he twitched and writhed.

But in all honesty, she was a bit irked by Sasori. Here was a person with a library of medical knowledge in his head, but instead of helping, he used his hands for hurting…and for painting her nails.

"What's the matter, little girl? You seem lost in thought," Sasori's wry voice breaks the silence that, Sakura begrudgingly admits to herself, hadn't been all that uncomfortable.

Sakura feels the absence of practiced brush strokes, but Sasori still had a claim on her hand.

_Always with the 'little girl,' or something else condescending. I have a name, you sexist asshole!_

But of course she doesn't say this; she already knew he had a short temper.

_That's one more thing we have in common._

Sakura wasn't happy.

"It's nothing to concern yourself with," she replies stiffly, raising a hand to inspect his work with a critical eye.

It was flawless.

Sakura felt a tug, and scowled at Sasori's insistence to control her with chakra strings as if she was already his marionette. He stalked her to the edge of the bed, taking a seat first before he silently commanded her to do the same. Sakura could do little but to obey.

She felt his hands on the sash loosely tied at her back, his nimble fingers undoing her careless work and fixing it into a perfect bow. His hands then trailed up her sides, languorously and unhurried. Sakura stiffens, completely unresponsive to his touch although she's burning with the urge to grab hold of his wandering fingers and twist them right off. His hands round over her shoulders and knead the tension there for a moment, causing Sakura to unintentionally let go of her anger and close her eyes. But it doesn't last long, as his fingers become distracted with her hair, and Sakura is once again alert if not placid at the sensation of a comb delicately swishing through her locks.

"Why do you do this to me?" her voice sounds too loud, as if she had just clumsily pierced the comfortable bubble of silence they had created around themselves.

"What do you mean?"

She couldn't see his face, having her back turned to him, but she didn't need to. She could feel that infuriating smirk through the back of her head.

Growling, irritated that she had to spell it out when he knew perfectly well what she was asking, Sakura snaps back, "Why do you dress me up like I'm some kind of doll you can play with? All the fancy clothes and perfumes and _pampering_," she says the word as if it's something foul, "I just want to know why you're doing this. You're going to turn me into a puppet anyway."

She tried to say it as calmly and matter-of-factly as possible, but it still came out sounding like more of a question. Like she was scared and hoping against hope that he wasn't planning to do exactly that.

"For a while…I thought I really hated you," Sasori says thoughtfully, as if he was speaking to himself rather than answering her question.

_Thought you hated me? I know I hated you, puppet boy. Still do._

"Really, when we met, I didn't think too much of you at first. Just a pretty, little girl with silly pink hair, trying her hand at playing ninja. I wanted to laugh at my luck for getting stuck fighting you and _Granny," _Sakura wanted to smack him for his spiteful referral to the old woman who had saved her life, but found she still didn't have control over her own limbs. Sasori either wasn't about to let his guard down, or he had completely forgotten to "cut" her strings.

"But then you surprised me," he continues, his voice tinged with that same surprised delight he felt from that time, "So small and delicate, your name befitting of your appearance, and yet you were capable of destruction powerful enough to rip the earth asunder.

"And then," he laughs as if fondly remembering, "You tricked me with that antidote for my poison. Such beauty and strength should be preserved for much longer than the short, insignificant lifespan of a mortal. I knew, even while fighting you, that I had to have you. Even while you dismantled my puppets that I spent so much time on maintaining – not to mention the effort it takes to retrieve them – I wanted to gift you with the ultimate art form."

"What you do to people isn't art, you sick – ''

But Sasori cuts in sharply, the steady rhythm of the comb not being disrupted once, "You're still young and haven't had enough life experience to know any better. What I do is preserve the exceptionally beautiful and collect the uniquely skilled. Those who make it into my collection are saved from the deterioration of aging and the miseries of a harsh life that will be over in the blink of an eye."

The comb in her hair comes to rest, and Sakura feels the shift in the mattress as Sasori leans forward. With his lips barely millimeters away from her ear, he whispers, "You should consider it an honor…you'll be one of them in due time."

_So there it is. He just as good as guaranteed it. But still…_

"So why wait? Why haven't you made me into one of your abominations already?" Sakura asks, putting her finger on the heart of the matter that had been bugging her ever since she woke up in the Akatsuki base.

The hostility she had been waiting for comes to surface as he snarkily retorts, "In case you haven't noticed, I've been forced to return to my old body. It takes a lot of preparation to be ready for the transfer and I've also been working on restoring my armory to at least a fraction of what it once was."

"That still doesn't explain why you're going to all this trouble. My previous imprisonment didn't include _manicures_. They rarely ever let me bathe," Sakura bites out bitterly.

"Danzo was an old fool," Sakura couldn't disagree with this statement, "He would have had you waste away to nothing before we could come for you. But he's been taken care of now. As to your insistence on knowing why you're being so well cared for, suffice it to say that Akatsuki does not treat its prisoners like this under normal circumstances."

_So then…what kind of circumstances are these?_

But Sakura knew further interrogating would be futile; Sasori was beginning to get vague with his responses.

She was surprised to feel the puppet master's smothering presence back away and she partially turned around to see him leaning back into the pillows piled against the headboard. He simply held her gaze, those lazy, half-lidded eyes of his looking utterly non-threatening. But she knew better. He was smirking.

That's when Sakura felt it. Or rather, she felt the absence of it. Sasori had released her from his chakra threads. Quickly, she rose to her feet, thinking she could get away with just leaving him and returning to her own room for once to sleep.

But of course, that wasn't to be.

She was only allowed to get halfway to the door before her body abruptly froze, one foot still in the air. She strained with all her might to push forward, but it was hopeless. Sasori toyed with her for a moment, allowing her to struggle in vain, but then she was turned around and forced to stride back to the lounging Akatsuki. At the foot of the bed, he had her crawl to him. Slowly slinking her way to him across the black sheets like a large cat, she could feel the humiliated blush heating up her face. He was making her seduce him of all things!

"I'm going to kill you for this," Sakura promises, the venom evident in her voice.

But the Akatsuki just gives her an appraising look, triumph glowing in his mahogany colored eyes.

Mortified, Sakura can only watch wide-eyed as her arms tremble nervously, continuing to move against her will and bringing her to hover over Sasori's relaxed form. With her legs tangled in his and her palms pressed firmly into the pillows at either said of his head, Sakura fixes Sasori with a heated glare. His face reveals nothing as he brings a hand up to cup her cheek. Sakura's face scrunches up in revulsion, the only thing she can do to fight back. She doesn't like the way their faces are so close together.

"What would you say to longer hair, little girl? There'll be some time to grow it out, and I find it a shame that you'd cut such fine hair so short and choppy. I prefer longer hair; it's much more womanly," Sasori muses aloud, surprising Sakura by the randomness of the suggestion, yet she has the presence of mind to pick up on the fact that there seems to be some kind of delay in Sasori's plans. Whatever the reason behind it is, it could serve as an advantage to her escape plans.

Sasori's hands wander down her back, halting at her hips. Sakura nearly hisses in anger, but she's preoccupied with trying to breathe as little as possible, not liking the way the action seems to press their bodies even more closely against one another.

Seeing the irked expression on her face, Sasori decides to push her a bit further for amusement, "Don't fret, darling. It may be a while before my plans for you can proceed, but that hasn't stopped me from working on your designs. I have an eye for detail and want to capture every curve," at this point, one of his hands slip over the curve of her behind, "In all of its perfection. And how beneficial it will be to have the opportunity to get to know the body of my future masterpiece, wouldn't you agree?"

Sakura's pupils shrink to mere pinpricks lost in identical seas of jade. She isn't sure if she is more embarrassed or furious, but she decides to act on behalf of her anger.

"I'll kill you, you puppet-loving bastard! I'll kill you before you can ever turn me into one of your monstrosities. Remove your hands at once or I'll make you regret surviving our battle!" Sakura's head whips back and forth like a wild bronco, threatening to clash skulls with the red-head.

"Empty threats will get you nowhere," he admonishes playfully.

"You're right, I'm going to make you regret it no matter what you do," she spits.

Sighing, as if she was some tiresome child to deal with, Sasori takes away her last bit of control for himself. Attaching a chakra thread to her neck, he puts a stop to her thrashing and in a polite tone that causes Sakura to seethe, asks, "Now then, child, am I going to be forced to resort to the previous nights' precautions to make sure you behave?"

Sakura didn't respond. She knew what he was alluding to. For her first two nights she had been in the same situation as this, forced to fill the role as Sasori's life-sized teddy bear. Of course, she hadn't been happy with her new role so she had kicked and punched (or at least tried to) until Sasori had rendered every part of her body completely immobile. While he drifted off to sleep with his new possession wrapped in a mockery of an embrace, Sakura had to endure the uncomfortable position he had incapacitated her in. When he finally woke up in the morning to release her from her cramped contortion, every muscle and joint painfully tingled after hours of being locked in the same position. Her limbs would be stiff for hours afterwards, not to mention how sleep-deprived it made her.

"Well, what's it going to be?" he prompted, impatience seeping into his normally languid voice.

Sakura really didn't want to give him the satisfaction of compliance.

But, apparently, Sasori wasn't going to settle for muteness. Swiftly, he sat up and Sakura would have toppled backwards had he not snaked an arm around her waist to keep her balanced. Her limbs were still stuck in their previous arrangement and she was certain it looked absolutely ridiculous. She felt like some little kid's action figure that he only bothered to pose once and used that same stiff stance for every imagined battle scene.

But it wasn't some kid who was handling her and she wasn't a toy. If he broke her, it would hurt.

She was certain he'd enjoy it. He'd enjoy putting her back together piece by piece.

"Listen, little girl. You may be getting treatment quite above the usual standards for prisoners, but make no mistake that it could quickly turn into your worst nightmare here. Obedience is key on your part, and it will be given either willingly or taken by force. Anger the wrong person in this organization and they will do much worse to you than what I have planned," Sasori threatens.

Sakura is taken aback.

_He almost sounds worried for me…_

Sighing, the red-head lies back against the plush pillows, bringing Sakura with him. He fixes her with a stern gaze and Sakura nods once, a nearly imperceptible motion.

But it seems to be enough for the Akatsuki as he releases the rest of the strings binding her in place.

With Sakura nestled against his side, Sasori holds her small body to him with one arm while his free hand finds its way to her hair.

Sakura places her head lightly atop his chest of her own accord (but not really).

_This is what I have to do for the time being. I'm not giving in and I'm not giving up. If survival means putting up with the enemy cuddling me all night then I'll grit my teeth and bear it._

Still, she couldn't help but feel a little dirty and a little like she was betraying her village. But, it hadn't been doing her any good to put up a fight with Sasori over this matter. The sleepless nights meant she had to catch some shut-eye during the day and that was interfering with her escape plans.

The lights are extinguished and after some time, she notices Sasori's slowed, even breathing. She wasn't fooled by it though; it was highly doubtful that he would fall asleep until she had. Still, it was odd feeling and hearing him breathe beside her, performing the usual involuntary tasks of living when she was so accustomed to thinking of him as a soulless being, stuck somewhere in the gray area between man and puppet (a boundary that should have always been clear and distinct).

She thought of home. Of Tsunade-shishou and work at the hospital, of Naruto and their lunches at the ramen stand, of Sai and – _Kami, please_ – praying that he had survived the bombs that had followed her abduction from the Konoha prisons.

Lastly, she thought of Sasori's warning…and how it was similar to what Deidara had said to her.

* * *

Sakura didn't know how many people were in the Akatsuki base by the end of her first week. She didn't even know how big it was. Sasori had restricted her to the hallway where her room was located, which was conveniently beside the red-headed bane of her existence while the blonde Akatsuki's quarters were at the other end of the hall on the opposite side. This wing (if that's what it really was) seemed to belong entirely to the two artists with a multitude of rooms they shared in between their own personal lairs. Sakura had thoroughly explored all of them, or at least the unlocked doors, finding nothing of extreme interest other than the fact that the two Akatsuki required a lot of room for the supplies of their trade. Never did she come across any loose weaponry though. The puppets she inspected were just hollowed out husks, waiting to be out-fitted with poison and other nasty surprises while the crates of clay were just that: clay, the owner having yet to charge them with his chakra or mold them into anything she could use.

They were being careful and while it restored a little of her pride that they thought her so resourceful, it was putting a damper on her chances of getting out.

She had discovered though, that while Sasori had told her to keep to the rooms in their hallway, there wasn't any jutsu in place to keep her from physically wandering away. She had managed to take a few steps down the left fork that she had intended to follow on her first day here, but her adventurous spirit was quickly doused. Neither Deidara nor Sasori were present at the time; she didn't know if they were on missions or what, but she wasn't sure it would be the smartest move to go exploring without them around. Not when that unknown person was still paying her visits, visits that occurred most often when neither of her two captors were around. Whoever it was, she had yet to see him (if it was a him). Sakura had been referring to the mystery man as The Lurker. He seemed to be content with simply standing outside the door of whatever room she was holed up in, never knocking or forcing entrance, just standing there for a few moments before going about his way.

The Lurker really creeped her out.

Sakura knew it would be just her oh-so-fabulous luck that she'd run into him if she decided to go roaming through the Akatsuki base on her own. Not to mention what other unsavory characters she'd come across.

_Nooooooo thank you._

Rising from her place at the low-sitting table in the only room she had found to have a window (a window that didn't open and was so thick and purposely warped that it was only useful for letting light in), Sakura stretches her arms over her head. It was early in the evening and she was bored, not enjoying all the sitting around she was doing while being considerably well-fed. Deciding to go have a little workout in the meditation room she had found, Sakura crosses the room to the screen door that had been replaced the day after she had her temper tantrum because of Deidara.

Just as her hand is about to push it aside, she feels it: a dark, unforgettable aura that she thought she had left behind in the shadows of Konoha's maximum security cells.

Even average civilians, with minimum chakra stores in their bodies, would be able to feel the malignant, overbearing presence of this being. It makes Sakura's heart leap into her throat, choking her on hysteria.

She hears the rhythmic clacking of sandaled feet on hardwood floor, a haunting echo she has become familiar with. It was _him. _The one who had been silently checking up on her was now coming for her when the only two people in Akatsuki who may or may not have put a stop to it were nowhere to be found. Never before had she felt this evil intent behind his stalking.

But she remembers that voice, the voice that called to her what seems ages ago. The voice that promised there'd be consequences for her near drowning incident.

The evil presence stretches out far beyond the footsteps of whoever was coming for her. It was as if the very air had dropped at least ten degrees, and Sakura fancies that's why she can't move, can't even blink. It's because of the cold; it most certainly can't be because she's so terrified she can't even remember how to use her legs.

Just when it becomes so overbearing that Sakura's knees are about to buckle from the sheer pressure this presence seems to exert, and the edge of a shadow just begins to spill across the screen doors, it completely vanishes.

Sakura is dumbfounded and she numbly drops her hand to her side, unable to recall exactly when she had gained control of it to clutch at her frantically beating heart.

_What happened?_

Straining, she listens for any movement, reaching out with imaginary chakra to feel for where that awful presence receded to. But there is absolutely no sign of it.

Hesitant, she gingerly opens the door inch by inch, just enough to quickly poke her head out to check the hallway. Nothing catches her eye, just a hallway of closed doors.

Cautiously, she steps out into the middle of the hallway, but nothing happens. No flare of evil chakra, no kunai through the head. For all intents and purposes, she completely imagined it.

_Except, I know what I heard and what I felt._

Thinking she should forego her previous workout plan for her own safety, she decides to await the return of her two captors and heads toward Deidara's room which is closest. Perhaps there she would be moderately safer from…whoever that was.

Making her way to her new destination, her footsteps light and quick, she feels something whizz by over her head, her hair whipping forward as if moved by a strong gust of wind. Luckily, she pushes it out of her eyes in time to avoid running into the three-bladed scythe lodged firmly in the floor inches from her toes. Despite the dried blood speckling the razor sharp edges, she can clearly see her shocked expression reflected back at her in its polished surface.

"So, I finally get to fucking meet you."

Sakura spins around to see a man with slicked back, silver hair, standing in the middle of the hallway. A thick cable was wrapped around one of his hands, climbing up his wrist and into the tattered remains of his cloak's sleeve. For the most part, his upper torso was completely bare other than the scores of cuts and large wounds puncturing him in what Sakura knew to be vital spots. But despite the obvious blood loss this man had endured, he was standing before her proudly, a look in his violet eyes that told Sakura she needed to be careful of him.

Furthermore, she recognized his voice. He peppered his speech with the foulest of expletives and had made the lewdest of suggestions to the poor kunoichi who assumed she was going insane at the time.

This had to be the Akatsuki known as Hidan. She remembered his file more clearly than some of the others. It was the substance of horror stories and slasher films.

She despised him on sight.

Swaggering (and there was really no other way to describe the motion) over to the pink-haired girl, Hidan plants himself squarely in front of the unimpressed medic. Running a hand carelessly through his hair that couldn't possibly be plastered back against his skull anymore than it already was, he greets her with a manic grin and Sakura wonders if he's at all aware of just how deranged he looks with all the blood smeared and encrusted on his skin.

"The name's Hidan, bitch. So, puppet boy and Deidara-chan have been keeping you all to themselves, haven't they? Those heathen bastards should learn not to fucking hoard the goods. They're almost as bad as that fuck, Kakuzu."

If Sakura hadn't already decided to immediately hate Hidan, she would have after that. Her opinion of him was loud, obnoxious, and vain, with a habit of complaining and an extreme case of potty mouth. But putting all that aside, he had made the mistake of calling her "bitch."

"First of all, asswipe, my name is Sakura, not 'bitch.' As for the other two asswipes you're referring to, yeah, it's been my unfortunate displeasure to be locked up in this shithole with them. And now I think it's just gotten worse!" she quips back. She knows it's stupid to pick a fight with someone like him. From what she had read of his profile, he was an indiscriminate killer that fought for the sheer thrill of it. But she was feeling a little jumpy from her close encounter with her unknown creeper. She needed someone to take her nerves out on.

But if she had expected Hidan to blow up in a rampage, she was in for a disappointment. The religious man looked far from irate, more psychotic, perhaps, but not angry. If anything, his expression was one worn by someone who had just had all of his suspicions confirmed and was quite pleased by it. Grinning madly, he circles the kunoichi, collecting his weapon as he comes across it and Sakura carefully keeps in pace with his slow, lazy circles. She wouldn't turn her back on him.

"I like you already, bitch," he purposely disregards her comment just to see the flames jump to life in her eyes, "Go ahead and talk to me like that some more. Jashin-sama approves," he says excitedly.

"You're sick in the head. I'm not playing games here, Akatsuki. Leave me alone," Sakura demands, standing tall in an attempt to add some stature to her authoritative tone.

Hidan pauses for a moment in his predator-like circling, "Ah, but I like it so much better when you cuss at me. I think you and I could have a very fucking pleasurable time together. I'd be happy to show you what Jashinism is all about. There are several rituals which I think you would be perfect for," Sakura wants to cringe at the way he practically purrs on the word "perfect."

"Like I'd ever be a part of your morbid rituals," Sakura spits back, readying herself in a defensive stance.

Hidan simply shrugs his shoulders in a nonchalant gesture, the corners of his lips twitching into a devilish smile. Sakura can't help but marvel at how someone so evil could have immaculately white, perfectly straight teeth.

_ Does Akatsuki offer some kind of dental plan?_

But Hidan's words interrupt her less than helpful musings as he says, "I can be pretty fucking persuasive."

"I highly doubt – ''

But what was going to be a scathing retort is abruptly cut short and Sakura's mouth is left hanging open. She feels the slight sting as the freshly opened skin meets the air and brings her fingertips up to her neck…they come away with a smear of red. The cut was shallow, a superficial incision to the side of her neck, but she hadn't been expecting the speed at which Hidan struck. Despite having the added weight of the scythe strapped to his back, he was still surprisingly agile and had gone from in front of her very eyes to the blind spot at her back, faster than she could think _'Shit!'_

Sakura turned to face the smug Jashinist who met her scowl with a sadistic smile. He held a kunai in front of her face, a small trace of blood – her blood – wetting its metallic surface.

Running his tongue over his top lip, the Akatsuki grins down at Sakura, "You and I are in for some fun times," he leans down to Sakura's height to look her in the eyes, "And I'm going to fucking guess you're a screamer."

And Sakura does scream, she practically howls with rage, but it's all kept bottled up inside because she's watching with dawning dread as Hidan raises the kunai to his mouth.

_Stupid. Stupid! STUPID! Why'd I let him do that? All he needs is a taste of his victim's blood before – _

Hidan's tongue flicks out to swipe the kunai, his eyes never leaving Sakura's. Sakura scrunches her eyes shut in frustration over the inevitable.

_Damn it!_

"Damn it!" Hidan bellows a second afterwards.

Sakura's eyes snap open to see the kunai from his hand clatter to the floor between their feet. She watches blood splatter to the floor in large splotches, but she has no idea where it's coming from until she glances back up and spots it.

A kunai was embedded in Hidan's shoulder, all the way up to the hand grip. Sakura stares at it dumbly.

_ How on Earth…?_

Unlike Sakura, Hidan is not at a loss for words. Looking at something over the top of her head, Sakura observes the way his violet eyes glint darkly, a storm brewing just behind them.

"Shit, Kakuzu! What the hell did you do that for, huh? I was just having a little fun," Hidan whines, his hands held up in the air in an attempt to look innocent.

Sure enough, Sakura twists her head around to see a frighteningly tall man approaching them from down the hall.

_Impressive aim._

"You idiot, leave a mark on her and Sasori will do much worse," the deep, gravelly voice growls back.

"Like I have anything to fear from that heretic," the Jashinist scoffs in dismissal.

Kakuzu only responds with a disapproving grunt and then fixes his critical eyes on Sakura. She tries to mask her apprehension with her best poker face, but there was something about his oddly colored eyes that really threw her off. Not only that, his dark, leathery skin was littered with one of the things Sakura hated most: stitches. Being a medic, Sakura had to learn how to stitch up minor wounds that would heal just fine once they were sewn shut, allowing her to conserve chakra for the more extreme surgical cases that she was likely to encounter on any given day at the hospital. Still, there was something about bunching the skin together to lace the needle through for each tiny suture. It was as if she had to disregard the fact that the material she was working with was live flesh – that it was something else entirely. Even though her patients were numbed to the sensation of it, she still didn't like the cold, inhuman feeling of the procedure. It was as though the person had become a doll she had to sew up – and of course dolls made her think of Sasori.

Sakura really hated stitches, and from what she had heard about this particular Akatsuki, she had reason to hate him, too. The man had decorated his body in those awful stitches like more ordinary people would cover themselves in tattoos. But it wasn't his choice in body art that disgusted Sakura the most. No, it was Kakuzu's penchant for collecting bounties. He would go after perfectly upstanding shinobi – or as perfectly upstanding as one can be in such a profession – just because they were featured in the bingo book. He had no personal reasons to pursue them; it was all for the money associated with their head. Sakura knew that if there was any Akatsuki that saw value in her, other than Sasori, it was this man, and he would probably prefer her dead.

Kakuzu's eyes dart from the blood on the girl's hand, still held up in the air as if she had forgotten it was there, to the cut on her neck dripping blood down into the collar of her shirt. Shooting his partner one last dirty look, he turns on his heel and throws up a hand to motion Sakura to follow him, not bothering to look back to see if she complies. Sakura hesitates to follow, unsure of what the stitched man has in store for her. Hidan wrenches the kunai out of his shoulder with a hiss of pain and she watches with surprise as he launches it at the back of his partner's head.

But Kakuzu merely raises an arm that Sakura hadn't noticed until now was carrying a small briefcase. The kunai sinks into it with a dull thud, but its owner doesn't slow in his departure. He simply says in that characteristically rumbling voice, "That's coming out of your pay, Hidan."

Hidan curses his partner loud enough for him to hear before trailing after him. Finally, Sakura allows herself to blink at the almost amusing exchange before she remembers that she's supposed to be following after them. Kakuzu was already at the fork in the hallway at the other end, taking a path that branched to the right, and Hidan was halfway there.

Seizing the opportunity, Sakura snatches the discarded kunai Hidan had used to cut her and slips it into her boot.

_This could definitely come in handy._

Sakura smiles to herself, hurriedly following after the two S-class nin who were rumored to be masters in the art of cheating death.

* * *

Sakura was surprised that Kakuzu led them to a room that was on par with some of the cleanest, most well-equipped emergency rooms she had ever seen.

She was even more surprised with how adept he seemed to be with treating wounds, granted hers was nothing to really fuss over. He cleaned the cut on her neck with an antiseptic while she busied herself with wiping her hand clean on a damp towel he handed her. She wanted to speak up and say that she was a medic and was more than proficient at handling a small matter such as this, but figured he was already aware of her status.

_Tricking him into removing my chakra suppressors so I can heal myself is out of the question._

However, when she sees him raise a finger, a small, dark thread unwinding from it, she quickly understands his intentions and raises her objections.

"No stitches, please," Sakura raises her hand out in front of her, trying her best to be polite in her refusal. She had a feeling ticking off this man was something only his partner could survive doing.

Kakuzu pauses, his eerily glowing eyes piercing Sakura, but the thread retracts and he instead fetches some gauze squares and a roll of adhesive bandages. Sakura inwardly sighs in relief.

While Kakuzu sets to work with covering her wound, Hidan makes himself comfortable on one of the operating tables. Sakura's nose scrunches up in disgust as he carelessly fingers the fresh wound at his shoulder, his hand coming away red and smudging everything he touches, marring the previously pristine state of the shiny chrome and black cushions. Why he was even there, Sakura couldn't fathom, except for boredom. He wasn't bothering to dress any of his wounds which, Sakura noted with clinical interest, were already remarkably improved looking.

_Accelerated rejuvenation!_

Catching her staring at him, Hidan puffs up with pride and fixes her with a smirk she was assuming was meant to look sexy.

"Hey, bitch, how about you and I play doctor? I'll let you poke and prod me all you want. Just don't be surprised if I poke back," he grins lasciviously.

"Freaking lecher," Sakura grumbles repulsed, trying to hold still as Kakuzu's hands gently wrap the roll of bandage around her neck.

"Only for you, babe" his eyes gleam madly.

Kakuzu remains silent throughout their exchange, pointedly keeping his back to his sprawled out partner in an attempt to ignore him. Finishing on her neck, Sakura is surprised to feel a warm, damp cloth against her bare skin and observes Kakuzu wiping away blood on her upper arm. She hadn't even noticed the blood that must have gotten on her when Hidan yanked the kunai out.

_Gross! Now I have his germs on me._

She scowls over at him and Hidan arches an eyebrow as if to say, "So what?"

He chuckles, though Sakura likens the sound to more of a maniacal cackle, and says, "Looks like we're even. You get some of my blood and I get some of yours."

He licks his lips just to set her off and watches eagerly as her hands turn into shaking, white-knuckled fists.

"What the hell happened, yeah?"

Sakura's gaze tears away from the smug Jashinist (who rolls his eyes in annoyance at being untimely interrupted once again) and is greeted with the sight of an irritated Deidara, still fully cloaked and aiming an accusatory eye at the other two Akatsuki.

In reply, Kakuzu jabs a thumb in his partner's direction and growls, "Hidan."

"What did you do to her?" Sakura notes the dropped "yeah" and the tension in the blonde's jaw, as though he would pounce at any second and rip the Jashinist's throat out.

"Calm down, you little shit," the guilty party drawls out, waving his hand in the air as if shooing away a pesky fly, "I didn't fucking do anything to her…yet."

The promise hangs in the air.

Deidara snaps, a wild look in his bright blue eye that sends shivers down Sakura's spine and makes her feel relieved that she wasn't the one on the receiving end of his ire at the moment. Deidara lunges forward and Hidan sits up from the operating table, reaching behind him for the hilt of his scythe, his face reading all too clearly that he was looking forward to this fight.

But Kakuzu promptly stops them within three feet of each other. Sakura gapes at the large, tentacle-like threads shooting out from Kakuzu's body to subdue the other two Akatsuki. Deidara struggles in the rope-like coat Kakuzu had ensnared him with while Hidan holds still and chooses to cuss his partner out for always getting in the way when he wanted to have some fun.

"I don't need any more idiotic tantrums draining money from Akatsuki's funding to repair the damages," Kakuzu cuts through Hidan's ranting and releases Deidara first, much to Hidan's protest.

Seeming to have cooled down enough to compose himself, Deidara leaves the two bickering Akatsuki to have at it and crosses the room to escort Sakura out. Timidly, Sakura calls out a small "Thank you" to the stitched man, a bit fearful of the fact that he had to have been referring to her earlier "idiotic tantrum" when berating his fellow Akatsuki. His eyes travel over to her retreating form as she's led away by Deidara.

Kakuzu didn't know what to make of the little, pink-haired girl. She was still young, but had already made it into the bingo book, and while her bounty wasn't up to his usual standards, he had a feeling it could grow to something worthwhile in the years to come. She wasn't quivering in fear at the mere presence of the Akatsuki cloaks, but she wasn't jumping into any kind of brash confrontation either. She seemed to be calculating, and Kakuzu could respect that sort of trait. It was something he desperately wished his partner had.

Sighing, he turns back to the silver-haired man who was still babbling about sacrilegious blondes.

* * *

Sakura nervously slips off her boots, carefully keeping the kunai concealed. Deidara had led her back to his room for the night, making Sakura wonder why she even dubbed the room she woke up in that first morning as her bedroom when she was never given the chance to sleep there. He informed her that Sasori was still away on his own solo mission so she'd be under his supervision for the night. Sakura was weary of the news. Sasori was bad enough to deal with what with his talk of turning her into art and preserving her beauty, as well as his incessant use of chakra strings to hinder her movement. But at least she had come to learn what could be expected of the puppet master when it came to their nightly routine.

With Deidara, she had a feeling things were going to diverge a little from the usual.

So far, he was doing a pretty good job at unnerving her.

_Maybe I should have kept the kunai on my person._

But Deidara wasn't making any sudden moves towards her. Since coming back to his room, Sakura had taken a seat on the edge of his bed (having been quickly forced to get over the oddness of such familiarity with the enemy days ago) and observed him taking off his cloak and shoes, making multiple trips between the bedroom and the bathroom, hearing the water splashing in the sink and seeing him come back out with his hair hanging free of its trademark style. She watched him go to a small dresser and pull out fresh clothes and then, turning to give Sakura an antagonizing smirk, began peeling off what he was wearing. Huffing with indignity, Sakura turns her head away in modesty, an angry blush giving away her discomfort. She doesn't turn back until Deidara slings his dirty shirt at her and it drapes over her head. Yanking it off, she chucks it back at the artist while at the same time thinking to herself how childish the exchange was.

_He can't be much older than me and, yet, he's a member of the Akatsuki. He has more blood on his hands than shinobi twice his age._

Deidara side-steps the projectile easily and allows it to lie abandoned on the floor with a few other articles of dirty laundry. Sakura watches with interest as he walks to a chest at the side of the bed. But as he opens it, the contents are revealed to just be more of the infamous clay she had already come across in some of the other unlocked rooms.

Deidara rips off a huge chunk from the stash and her eyes follow him as he slowly paces back and forth, his hands working at a much faster rate. It was clear that he was agitated and thinking hard on something, but Sakura had no clue as to what it could possibly be. She decides to remain silent, her hand absentmindedly going to her neck and tracing the edge of the bandage. Deidara's keen eye picks up on the small motion and his expression visibly darkens, but Sakura isn't paying attention. Her thoughts have drifted to Konoha and all the possible ways she could get back at Danzo.

But something flits across her vision and coming back to the present, she is startled to see a little clay figurine dancing across the floor. It was human, or at least humanesque. It looked more like a crude doll that could be modeled for artists to study the 3-D form as it lacked any real defining features. But its tiny form (no more than six inches tall) moved with the poise and grace of a professional dancer. It jumped and twirled about as if its sole desire was to perform for her viewing pleasure and Sakura watched, entranced.

Suddenly, with a jump and a skip, the little figurine made a sprint for the closed door, only to crumple in a twisted heap of limbs before it ever got there.

Seconds later it explodes with a small _pop!_

Sakura turns widened eyes on the artist, her dismay and distaste for the spectacle's ending obvious.

"Why'd you do that?" she demands an answer, not understanding the necessity of destroying something so oddly discomfiting, yet captivating at the same time.

Deidara takes a seat beside her, not answering, but allowing her to watch as his hands form a new creation. A second figurine springs from his palm to land on the floor, and Sakura's eyes widen even further upon taking in the details of this new creation. It was obvious who Deidara modeled it after.

She watched as the little Sakura did some kind of cross between dancing and fighting with an invisible opponent. A clay bird became part of the act, one that was in proportion to the little Sakura as the one that had carried the real Sakura and her abductors had been. The clay bird and its little passenger took to the air and Sakura watched them zip around the room. For a second, she glanced at Deidara with something that could almost be mistaken for a smile. Just as they were about to crash into the ceiling, the jutsu was released and the clay exploded, but unlike the figurine before it, this explosion erupted in a small, but beautiful firework.

Sakura felt like she only understood half of what Deidara had just shown her…and absolutely nothing as to why.

_You want me to trust you, but why?_

But Deidara didn't seem to be in the mood for talking; there was still something eating away at him and she wasn't about to prod him for explanations when he was so volatile. The Akatsuki let himself fall back onto the bed and a second later, Sakura felt a tug on her arm as she was pulled down beside him.

"My little songbird, yeah," he sighs sleepily, and Sakura realizes he must be more tired than he was letting on earlier. Not for the first time, she ponders what kind of mission Deidara and Sasori went on.

Still, his exhaustion wasn't completely hindering his roaming hands. For the most part, he was keeping it fairly appropriate until his touch alighted on the bandage at her throat. She could practically feel the tension and anger rolling off him, but he kept his movements gentle despite her attempts to push away from him (she blamed the eerily spellbinding effect of his little performance for why she wasn't fighting back harder). But as soon as his fingers brush against the bandage, it's as if something inside of him is set off.

His lips on her neck make her blood run cold and Sakura lashes out with her hands, hoping to scratch out his one visible eye while he is in such close proximity.

But Deidara was having none of it. With little to no effort, he captured her flailing arms to pin them against the mattress above her head. With one of his legs wedged between her own, Sakura had to deal with one leg being completely immobilized while Deidara maneuvered the other to secure around his waist. If she had had her incredible strength at her disposal, it would have been a prime position to crush his spine. As it was, Sakura was the one desperately wanting to get out of close combat range.

_ Not good! Not good!_

"There, I like this much better, yeah. Don't you?" He nuzzles her neck while simultaneously hoisting her thigh up higher.

Sakura was grateful for her choice in loose ninja pants that day. No way did she want those hand-mouth things leaving sticky, slobbery trails all over her skin. She had just washed off Hidan's germs after all.

"You have no right to touch me. If being Akatsuki's prisoner means allowing myself to be manhandled, I'd prefer to be stuck in Konoha's prisons even if Danzo is hokage."

Deidara chuckles darkly, "You think this is bad, yeah?" He buries his nose into her hair before continuing, "This is _nothing_ compared to what some of those other bastards want to do to you, yeah."

Sakura doesn't speak, her mood souring by the second.

"I already warned you: there are monsters in this place, yeah. I'm probably your safest bet," he adds, his tone a bit lighter.

"Are you trying to tell me you're willing to put a stop to whatever twisted plans the others in this organization have in store for me? Like you're any better?" Sakura asks, her voice equal parts sarcasm and skepticism.

"Well," Deidara drawls, "I wouldn't promise that."

"Screw you, then," Sakura spits.

She can hear the amusement in his voice when he says, "I'm just saying, out of all the monsters here, I'm probably the tamest."

She doesn't need to see it to feel the self-satisfied smile on his face.

"I doubt it," she grumbles, suddenly overcome with exhaustion. Not from physical exertion, but from thoughts of the looming future that would drag out day after day in the arms of the Akatsuki. Passed along from one to another, she would serve whatever horrible purpose they saw in her until she was deemed useless, at which point they would most certainly kill her. Not that it would matter; she would already be dead inside.

Sakura could easily imagine how it would all play out.

Sensing a sad quietness about her, Deidara brushes the backs of his fingers across her cheek, observing her lowered gaze that refuses to meet his.

"I liked it when you sang," he says softly, nearly a whisper.

And Sakura finally does look at him.

"You heard me?" she doesn't sound at all happy by the news.

"Deidara nods, "We all did at one time or another, yeah. You have a pretty good voice, little birdy."

"I was half out of my mind," Sakura states flatly, struggling to turn on her other side so she doesn't have to face that one stunningly blue eye that was a bit too observant for her tastes.

Deidara releases his grip on her leg, allowing her to turn away from him like she wants. Instead, he settles for throwing an arm over her stomach, snuggling her back against his chest.

"Maybe so," he teases, "But you know what they say about suffering for your art, yeah. You should sing again for me sometime."

"Set me free and I'll sing like a bird," Sakura agrees carelessly.

Deidara chuckles lightly, his laughter turning into a yawn.

"We'll see, yeah."

* * *

Sakura dreams she's back in Konoha, walking the busy streets of the outdoor market. She waves at passerby, friends and strangers alike. But shadows, stretched long and thin like ropes, follow wherever she goes, eventually catching up to her. Wrapping around her body like snakes, they bring her to her feet, but everyone has their backs to her and Sakura can't even cry for help because one of them has wound around her face. The next thing she knows, she's back in her maximum security cell with puddles so deep that she falls into one up to her waist when she doesn't bother to step around it. She tries to climb out, but finds that the water has frozen solid around her. Horrified, she calls for the guards, but instead of the expected ROOT member, Naruto comes walking by.

Scowling at her like he had never done in reality, Naruto growls, "It's your fault, Sakura."

Though he doesn't say it, Sakura somehow intuitively knows he's blaming her for what happened to Tsunade.

She could hear herself crying, but couldn't feel the warm tears stream down her face and she wondered if they had frozen on her cheeks.

"N-Naruto, I know! I'm so sorry! The Akatsuki made a deal with Danzo and – ''

"No! You can't keep making excuses for yourself," Naruto barks back.

Devastated, she watches him spit at her between the cell bars before continuing on his way, the keys jangling from his back pocket. She calls after him, but he doesn't return and now Sakura can feel something on her face and she brings her hand up to wipe the tears away.

But when she brings away her hand she finds it covered in little, white spiders, no bigger than a common ant. Horrified, she rubs at her face again, bringing away even more. Instead of actual tears, she was crying little, white spiders.

And she knew what they did.

Furiously, she scratches at her eyes, but that just made it worse. Now they were everywhere, completely covering every available inch of her body while half of her was still stuck in the ground. The explosion is deafening and the flash of light sears across her vision.

Sakura vaults into a sitting position, panting heavily from her nightmare. Running a shaky hand through her bangs, she glances down at the bed to see Deidara still peacefully fast asleep, his back facing her.

A sharp sound pierces the silence like the lock on a door clicking into place.

Sakura's head snaps up and her breath catches in her throat.

At the foot of the bed stands a tall, dark figure. That in itself was threatening, but what terrified Sakura into a speechless, quivering mass of uselessness were the glowing, red eyes staring straight at her.

Eyes that she had seen once before in the ruined wing of Konoha's hospital.

_**You've kept me waiting, love.**_

This time, Sakura awakens for real in a frenzied, screaming mess.

* * *

**Author's Note: Ok, first I'd just like to share my gushing gratitude to all those who read the first chapter, and especially to everyone that took the time to review. Many thanks to you, you're the reason this was continued. I have to say, reading some of the reviews after the first day this story was posted was one of the best feelings in the world. I can see why writing on this site is a major hobby for some people. More than likely, I will not reply back to a review unless I feel any confusion or questions that are raised in it won't be answered by the next chapter or in the author's note. But I hope that won't keep you from reviewing, 'cause believe me, I do read all of them (multiple times). ****To address a few things that were commented on, I'll start off by answering someone's question of whether I've reposted this story. The answer is that this isn't anything I've done before because I've honestly never had an account until I was ready to post the first chapter of this story. So, I guess it's just similar to another fanfiction on this site, but hopefully you all find it entertaining and original enough to keep reading :) Fingers crossed! Also, I'm really glad that someone appreciated my portrayal of Sai (he was a little tricky trying to get the right mix of emotionally repressed with some reaction as to how the whole situation affected him). **

**Also, for anyone wondering, all of the Akatsuki will make an appearance in this, with Konan being the only possible exception although she may make a small appearance. Someone has mentioned they would like to see Itachi and Pain and I already have something planned for Itachi while Pain is still a work in progress (although I am eager to try writing him). If there are any certain characters that you'd like for me to pay more attention to, just let me know in a review. In case it isn't obvious, I have a soft spot for the two artists of the Akatsuki so they'll probably be getting plenty of coverage. **

**I don't know as that I'd call it inspiration as its message doesn't exactly correlate to the story, but the song "The A Team" by Ed Sheeran helped me type out this chapter.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto. **

**Rated M: Due to coarse language, violence, and some adult themes.**

* * *

_What the hell was that?!_

Sakura really hated those dreams where you thought you had saved yourself from the nightmare by waking up, only to find that you had skipped right into the next one that had been so cleverly disguised. But those eyes, and not just the eyes – everything – had been so lucid. From the way the bed creaked when she sprang up, to the soft, slumbered breathing coming from her very unwanted companion. Even the smell of her shampoo as she had raked nervous fingers through the tangled mess on her head – everything about it had screamed "real."

But here she was, panting like she had just narrowly escaped with her life as she stared into the empty space at the end of the bed.

The worst part was that she wasn't even sure she was truly awake yet because she had found herself in the same position as the last nightmare. It was as if she had sat up in her sleep and her own screaming had finally broken through her dream world. Deidara had jerked awake from the other side of the bed like he had been electrocuted. Her mind was working so hard to refute what her eyes had taken in: that Deidara had been turned away from her, his hair spread out like an ironic, golden halo, just as it had been in her nightmare.

She doesn't want to admit that right now she was glad to have his arms wrapped around her shoulders, holding her tightly against his chest as she shivered with the remnants of adrenaline-fueled terror. He was real and solid unlike whatever specter was lurking in her dreams.

Deidara had tried asking her what had happened while smoothing her hair down into some semblance of order, but she just shook her head.

_How humiliating is this, huh? I just had a nightmare and woke up screaming like some little kid. This is exactly what I don't need happening in front of these Akatsuki. Get a grip, Sakura!_

Gently, she disengages herself from the Akatsuki and mumbles something about going back to her room to get cleaned up. To her relief he didn't stop her; he just watched her edge her way to the door like a spooked deer before slipping out. Stepping into the hallway, Sakura broke out of her shaky daze and took off sprinting down to the other end where her room next to the Scorpion of the Red Sand's was beginning to look like a haven. There was something ominous about the wide, empty stretch of hallway that made her feel like a sitting duck for whatever happened to come along. She had already been caught here once by Hidan, but it wasn't the Jashinist who was plaguing her thoughts.

Sakura didn't look back so she missed the knowing glint in Deidara's eye as he came to his open doorway to watch Sakura slam her door shut behind her.

* * *

After taking her time in the bathroom with a steaming hot shower to relax her nerves and taught muscles, Sakura found a new set of clean clothes waiting for her on the edge of her bed. Wondering if Sasori had returned from his mission or if Deidara had temporarily taken over the duties of personal groomer, Sakura could only complain to herself about having zero control over even the most trivial of matters. She had only managed to snag the baggy ninja pants from yesterday by taking them from Sasori's own dresser while he was away. Combing her hair straight, Sakura was just beginning her morning ritual of reviewing everything she detested about the puppeteer, from the mundane annoyances to the most heinous of crimes. Needless to say, she had spent a great deal of time cultivating this extensive list of grievances.

Barely halfway through it, her ears perk up at the sound of something she hadn't expected to find in the Akatsuki base.

_Music?_

She drops her comb on the bed and goes to crack open her bedroom door. Sure enough, a pleasantly clear melody greets her ears as she takes a small step out of her room. Astonished, she recognizes that it isn't a recording either; someone is playing an instrument, a shamisen if she isn't mistaken.

Debating with herself for only a moment, Sakura decides to leave the imagined security of her room in favor of investigating. In truth, it was purely curiosity that drove her to seek out the player. In no way did she figure such intel would ever prove useful once she made it back to Konoha, but the desire to know who was behind the beautiful music was compelling her forward much like Deidara's little clay performance had captivated her.

Carefully, she follows the tune to the fork at the end of the hallway and takes the left branch, only hesitating for a second at the thought of running into The Lurker. But surely whoever was responsible for such beautiful music couldn't be her creepy, unknown visitor. It just didn't seem compatible in her head. Whoever was capable of producing such a stunningly pure sound wasn't the same person. Perhaps the Akatsuki had hired a musician to entertain them? While that possibility didn't seem to ring true, Sakura forges on, expanding her mental map of the Akatsuki base along the way.

Close to the middle of this branch she spots an open doorway, the music flowing out loud and clear. With anticipation rising in her chest, she slows her confident strides down to timid, tip-toe-like steps and peeks around the doorframe.

Shocked, Sakura quietly clears her throat of the saliva she nearly choked on. She hadn't known what to expect, but it certainly wasn't the sight of _that man_ sitting demurely on a large, maroon seat cushion in the middle of a room devoid of any other furnishings, save for a single window. Vaguely, Sakura thought to herself that she had finally found a real window, not like that fake, warped thing in the room she always took her morning tea in. This one was small, but cast enough natural light into the room that Sakura could see the dust moats swirling in the beams of sunshine.

And it _was_ a shamisen as she had guessed.

But that was it. It was just one window, one shamisen, and one Itachi Uchiha in a room Sakura was no longer sure she wanted to enter.

But the young man, famed for murdering his own clan on a night that _should_ have been like any other in Konoha, had not looked up to acknowledge her presence. Not sure if she should appreciate the reprieve from facing the Sharingan eyes, or if she should feel insulted, Sakura shifts her weight from one foot to the other in indecision. She knew that Itachi was aware of her looming in the doorway, and had probably been alerted of her presence since she set foot out into the hallway. To think any less of his abilities would have been a death wish.

While Sakura contemplated his non-reaction to her obvious eavesdropping, she began to pick up on the familiarity of the song he was playing. That Itachi played a musical instrument was surprising – that he was a master at it was not. What came as further surprise to the girl was that he knew a song Sakura hadn't heard since her childhood when her mom would tell her stories before bedtime and, on occasion, sing.

Sakura nearly jumps when he brings his head up to glance at her, but is somewhat reassured by the lack of challenge she finds within their vermillion depths. While mesmerizing in a haunting sort of way, he didn't give off the feeling of a mass murderer. She had to remind herself that's exactly what he was. But it was hard when their gazes didn't so much as clash, but softly click into place; as if they weren't two enemies about to face off, but two strangers seeking one another's acceptance. It was disconcerting.

If memory served her right, he was nearing the song's end. What it was called, she couldn't quite remember, or even if her mother had told her. But, she could still recall a few lines here and there and as Itachi came upon it, the final verse burst through the fogginess of long-forgotten bedtimes and refused to be ignored.

_It sings for the lies and children's' cries of promises long ago._

_It sings for the tortured hearts and broken minds._

_It sings for spring._

_It sings for life._

_It sings for freedom despite the strife._

_It sings for the intangible, yet teasing taste_

_Of something unknown._

Sakura hadn't even realized she'd been humming along with the melody until the last few reverberations from Itachi's masterfully plucked chords echoed through the room. With a light blush adorning her cheeks, as if apologizing for doing something wrong, she bashfully looks up into the ex-Leaf nin's eyes. But he says nothing, not reprimanding her for joining in on the song, for in truth, he didn't mind the young woman's company. She was a little piece of home he'd been denying himself for years.

Neither welcoming her to come in and sit down, nor shooing her away, Sakura was left standing in the uncertain limbo of the door frame. Itachi's fingers began weaving a different song.

_Ah, what the hell._

Taking at first a small, hesitant step forward, then several larger ones as it didn't raise any protest, Sakura carefully plots her route to the corner of the room nearest the exit, though she knew such precautionary measures were laughable when he could still easily catch her if he wanted.

The new song was one she wasn't familiar with, but it was much slower than the previous one and lacked its light, airy quality. This one was certainly more woeful and though she had never been one to tear up at beautiful music before, Sakura felt the annoying prickling sensation behind her eyes and stubbornly willed it into submission. When the final note hung in the air like heavy regret, Sakura watched as Itachi positioned the instrument to rest comfortably on his lap. He was free of his Akatsuki cloak and though her better judgment warned her against it, Sakura couldn't resist scanning his form for all the similarities of her old teammate.

There were so many there, staring straight back at her like a taunt, that it was painful.

Now that he had stopped playing, Sakura was quickly made aware of the fact that she had no reason to stick around. She had intruded into his space for the sole purpose of finding who was behind the alluring sound, and although he had not objected to her listening in on him, she was now faced with the very scary possibility that she would have to talk to the man who had the greatest, severest impact on Sasuke's life.

_Never in a million years would I have thought I'd be in this situation._

"Sakura Haruno…I am Itachi Uchiha," he inclines his head toward her politely.

Sakura is stunned by the surrealness of the situation and finds herself unable to form a response. Fortunately, she supposes, Itachi seems to sense her unease and continues, "You know why the caged bird sings?"

Confused by the abnormal question, Sakura's eyebrows scrunch together in light distress as she tries to respond without coming across as completely ignorant, "I-I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean. The caged bird?"

_Ugh, why'd I apologize? He's the one talking nonsense here!_

"The song you walked in on," he prompts, not a hint of irritation in his voice, "It is called 'Why the Caged Bird Sings'."

Sakura's attention quickly locks onto those words. There it was again. Hadn't Deidara already mentioned to her about knowing why the caged bird sings? For some reason the phrase wouldn't leave her alone.

Trying her best to mask her confusion, Sakura replies, "Yes, I remember it from when I was little, but it's been a while since I've heard it. I didn't even know it was called that."

Itachi makes a "hn" noise in his throat that was so reminiscent of Sasuke she has to catch herself from smiling.

"What's the name of the other song you played? I've never heard it before," Sakura questions.

"That one is called 'The Hero's Lament'," he answers, noting with mild amusement the way her head tilts to the side in consideration of the song's title.

"Do you play?" he asks, shifting the weight of the shamisen in his lap.

"O-oh, no!" Sakura laughs lightly, flustered, "I can't play any instruments. I'm no good in music."

_I'm not some Uchiha prodigy who has everything come to him so easily._

"That is not what I have come to understand. You have a beautiful voice. There is no need to be so modest, Sakura," he rolls his tongue over her name so easily, with a familiarity that sends tingles down her spine.

"So you heard me sing back in Konoha's prison when I thought I was…" she wafts her hand through the air, too embarrassed to finish it aloud, but knowing he'd understand her meaning.

"Yes," Itachi says simply, mercifully leaving unsaid what she couldn't bring herself to say.

Their conversation hits a pause and she watches Itachi check the tuning of his instrument. Apparently satisfied with its condition, he rises to his feet, placing the shamisen down on the seat cushion. Sakura scrambles to her feet, uncertain of what his intentions could be. He had been cordial and polite so far, but she knew the amicable façade would drop soon enough. Putting the fact that he was Sasuke's older brother aside, he was still an Akatsuki.

He walks to the door, and just as Sakura thought he meant to leave without so much as a parting word, he inclines his neck in a way that Sakura understood he meant for her to follow.

Her head felt light, like it was floating ten feet above her grounded body. Here she was, walking side by side with a notorious clan killer. Itachi led her through a maze of hallways that frustrated her plans of memorizing the floor plan for the Akatsuki base. All the halls were pretty much indistinguishable from the one Sasori and Deidara confined her to. With dismay, she realized she'd have to rely on Itachi to guide her back if she ever wanted to make it back to her room without Sasori discovering she had snuck out.

_If he hasn't already…_

With that gloomy thought hanging over her head, she barely has time to snap back to attention and keep herself from bumping into Itachi when he stops in front of a set of shoji screen doors.

_Did we somehow circle back to the tea room?_

But that idea is quickly dispelled as Itachi wordlessly ushers her inside ahead of him.

It was a large, indoor rock garden, and not for the first time, Sakura wanted to know just how much money the Akatsuki had at their disposal.

_That Kakuzu must be really good with finances._

The room was spacious, and Sakura observed the wraparound porch that enclosed the rectangular plot of earth, providing pathways to a number of other closed doors that one could use to access the garden She wondered who was the one left to take care of the impressively raked lines and concentric rings in the tiny gravel and realized she wouldn't be surprised if it was the man she had followed here. She had already found he had one interesting hobby, so why not rock gardening?

What Sakura liked best about this new room was that she could see the sky. The ceiling, or roof (whatever one wished to call it), was a peaked, glass affair and Sakura relished the thought of being so close to freedom. The sky that was tantalizingly within reach was a swirling mass of gray and white, heavy with the promise of a downpour, but it was the most beautiful thing Sakura had seen in a long time.

Itachi had leapt from rock to rock, or rather from boulder to boulder, to a flat meditation rock in the center and was sitting comfortably in a cross-legged position, his eyes focused on Sakura. Waiting.

Not to look pathetic, Sakura set her jaw and jumped to the nearest rock from the porch, refusing to mar the meticulous designs just as Itachi had been careful not to do. Without any chakra to call to her aid, Sakura had to get a running start to clear the huge leaps separating the rocks. Taking nearly five times the amount of time Itachi had, and feeling quite clumsy, Sakura finally managed to reach the end of the same rock he sat on. Breathing heavily from the exertion, Sakura fixed the Uchiha with a triumphant look.

Sakura Haruno didn't back down from a challenge.

Itachi didn't comment on her success. After Sakura had situated herself on the rock and tucked her skirt under her legs, she was confounded to look up and see the corners of the Akatsuki's mouth turned up ever so slightly. Sakura's senses were on high alert, not knowing what to expect since he was acting so docile. _So human._

"This must be quite difficult for you to endure. How are they treating you?" his voice is soft and inviting. If Sakura hadn't known the atrocities he had committed, she would have been lulled into a false sense of comfort. Even so, she hadn't imagined just how much of an effect the pretense of friendship would have on her in this place. A shred of kindness sprinkled with sympathy was all it took to make her doubt him and everything she knew about Itachi Uchiha.

Sakura's face turns stony, weary of what game he was trying to lead her into. Itachi was a genjutsu expert after all; he substituted reality with lie after lie to build a perfect, seamless world under his control.

"You should know. You're in the same organization as them. You're of the same _class_," Sakura's voice comes out razor sharp.

Itachi regards her with an amused quirk of an eyebrow, "Is that so?" he crosses his arms, his eyes closed in consideration, "Perhaps you expect something more like this – ''

Sakura doesn't even flinch at the sensation of a kunai's pointed tip kissing the nape of her neck. This was more along the lines of what she had in mind.

"From someone like me," Itachi finishes quietly, his voice coming from above Sakura's head despite the fact she was looking right at him and his mouth wasn't moving.

The clone dissipated into a murder of crows and Sakura could only feel the warmth emanating from the real Itachi crouching at her back.

_Monsters will always revert back to their true nature soon enough._

"This is precisely what I expected from you," Sakura replies, seemingly indifferent to the fact she had a kunai poised to sever her spinal cord. Despite her blasé tone, Sakura was riddled with as much tension as a stretched bow.

"Hn," her antagonizer sounds in disapproval, "You were a student of Kakashi Hatake, were you not?"

"Yes," Sakura confirms slowly, not knowing where he could possibly be going with this question.

Sakura feels the wind at her back and Itachi is once again in her field of vision, looking for all the world as if he had never moved from his seat on the rock. The kunai had disappeared from his hand and Sakura had the irrational desire to reach for the one she had concealed on her person.

"Hatake is an enthusiast of the saying 'looking underneath the underneath,' if I am not mistaken. I would have thought after spending some time under his mentorship that bit of wisdom would have rubbed off on his students," Itachi says with a blank face, giving away none of the intent behind his words.

But Sakura takes offense to them nonetheless. Was he mocking her intelligence? Or maybe he was bad-mouthing Kakashi's teaching abilities in some roundabout way? Sakura grits her teeth. It was hard to tell because she hadn't a clue as to what he meant to accomplish by saying all of this.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" she goes to painstaking lengths to remain cool and collected.

Itachi unfolds his legs, stretching them out to cross one over the other in a leisurely manner as if he was settling down for a friendly conversation that was bound to go on for some time.

"I am only suggesting that you should be more aware of the possibility that things are not as they appear. Even the shadows have shadows hiding within them. Reality and truth are merely perceptions that can have entirely incongruous meanings to different people."

Perhaps observing her baffled expression and realizing that his words had gone clear over her head, Itachi gives a good-natured sigh and explains, "For instance, you assumed that I wished to harm you without the slightest provocation. Why is this?"

_You're a psychopath who massacred his family and betrayed his village by joining a criminal organization whose mission is to capture and kill all of the jinchuriki, including one of my closest friends._

Of course Sakura didn't voice such opinions and when Itachi gathered that she wasn't prepared to answer, he continues, "It is because of your perception of me. A profile of who I am as part of the Akatsuki. It is something that is crafted. As shinobi, we are expected to swallow certain truths without question so as that we can perform our duties with the utmost competence. But that is not always wise."

"You're talking about loyalty to the village, aren't you? When we have to, as you say, 'swallow certain truths,' it's so we can protect the village and take out any threats without hesitation," Sakura pierces Itachi with a furious glare, "What? Are you saying that loyal shinobi are blindly devoted to something they don't even fully understand while your betrayal is actually a good thing? Like you're somehow superior?"

Sakura's disgust at the notion is evident. She was a kunoichi of Konoha through and through and Itachi felt something within him stir.

"You misunderstand. In any case, loyalties to villages aside, my point of bringing all of this up is much more relevant to your current circumstances. Have you given any thought as to why you are here, Sakura?" Itachi's hand wanders up to his necklace in a seemingly unconscious gesture, but Sakura figured nothing about Itachi could ever be construed as non-calculated.

Sakura cocks her head to the side, "Well, it's obvious…Sasori wants to turn me into one of his puppets as a revenge of sorts."

Itachi's head moves ever so slightly in the negative, from side to side, "This is why you should consider your old squad leader's teachings more carefully. When you come to realize the situation in its entirety, you will find that any escape plans you may have concocted up until now will prove quite useless."

His tone is flat with finality and Sakura is struck with the thought that Itachi's motive for having this little chat session was just to cow her into submission, to remind her that she was almost comically out of her league and that she should just spare everyone the effort and not make a nuisance of herself with trying to escape.

Then the Uchiha completely throws her for a loop when he says, "Be more careful, Sakura. The Akatsuki are notorious for a reason. Use your instincts; you will find that trust is something that can only be given sparingly here, if at all."

_Trust? It's not like I would ever let myself trust anyone in Akatsuki._

Sakura peers up at the sky overhead that had darkened considerably in the short amount of time she had been in the rock garden. Wherever the Akatsuki base happened to be, whether they were high up or in some secluded area, the only thing visible through that expanse of glass was a vast, swirling grayness.

Feeling burdened with Itachi's words, Sakura withdraws into herself, her thoughts churning around the possible implications of Itachi's warning to "be more careful". So, while having a kunai pressed to her skin hadn't startled her in the slightest, Sakura was alarmed by the booming voice that called across the graveled lawn.

"Itachi-san! So this is where you've been. I was beginning to lose hope of ever finding you," someone calls out amicably.

Sakura wonders how someone could ever be happy to run into Itachi Uchiha, much less actually go looking for him. Except for Sasuke, of course…

She also wonders at the peculiarity of the newcomer's statement. How could he not find a fellow Akatsuki's chakra signature? Sakura herself couldn't sense it (or the newcomer's for that matter), but she had a valid excuse for that. The only explanation was that Itachi had been expertly concealing it. While he was with her.

Sakura didn't like that.

"Kisame," his partner greets peaceably.

Sakura's eyes widen marginally in alarm. So she was about to be introduced to the Monster of the Hidden Mist. She couldn't see him and because she couldn't see him, she knew exactly where he was.

"But it looks like you weren't lonely in my absence at all…In fact," Sakura can't see it, but she can hear the _clack _as Kisame's pointed teeth click together in a smile, "It seems you had some lovely company."

Sakura bites her lip, not enjoying the teasing that was about her, yet not directed at her. Itachi makes a noncommittal sound in his throat and the hairs on the back of Sakura's neck stand on end. She had yet to turn and face the new arrival, almost wishing she was immobilized by Sasori's chakra threads so that she at least had an acceptable reason for it. Instead, she refused to turn and give him the satisfaction of seeing the anxiety she knew was scrawled all over her face. But Kisame wasn't going to stand back in her shadow forever.

He had heard of the fifth hokage's apprentice and how, despite her small physique and pink hair, she wasn't someone to get in a fistfight with. He hadn't seen it first hand, but Sasori's accounts of his battle with the little kunoichi made her sound like an earthquake with a pretty face. He wanted to see for himself if she was worth the admiration for more than just her looks.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Kisame Hoshigaki," he introduces himself formally, not at all expecting the girl to return the politeness.

When she does, Kisame hides his surprise behind a toothy grin.

"Sakura Haruno. It's…," she hesitates for only an instant on her word choice and settles for mimicking his, "A pleasure to meet someone of such ill repute."

The way she says it, with smiling eyes and a sweet, girlish voice fitting for someone of her age, but not of her profession, one would almost forget that her words were actually not complimentary in the slightest. But Sakura couldn't quite displace the small, sly smile from her face.

Kisame's rough guffaw meets her ears and Sakura is puzzled as to how someone of his stature could have such an odd blend of polite respectfulness and aggressive gruffness.

"Watch yourself, little girl. Someone around here might mistake those for fighting words," Kisame wags a finger in her direction as though admonishing a mouthy child, stepping around the rock to go stand near Itachi's side. Sakura realizes all the effort she had put in to avoid disturbing the order of the rock garden had been wasted; Kisame certainly didn't seem to have any quarrels with stepping through the raked designs.

She sizes Kisame up, noting his towering height (even greater than Kakuzu's) and the uncanny blue hue of his skin. He truly did look like something caught mid-transformation between man and sea creature. The animalistic quality of his round, beady eyes was unnerving.

Meanwhile, she can tell Kisame is doing the same, his eyes tracing her body so obviously she can practically feel his invasive hands on her skin. When his eyes finally drag back up to her face, she's waiting for him with narrowed eyes and a frown so deep it might have been carved in stone.

"Whoa there, kunoichi. Smile. It's the second best thing you can do with that pretty, little – ''

"Finish that comment and I'll be able to tell you with my _pretty, little mouth_ what's big and blue and red all over," Sakura cracks her knuckles for effect as her skin flushes a warning shade of red.

Her threat is met with Kisame's bellowing laugh, "You have some fight in you. I like that."

"Then you'll really love my fist through your head," Sakura bluffs. Exchanging verbal barbs was about the extent of her ability to fight off the Akatsuki who plagued her.

But Kisame was struck with an idea and his cunning, sharky smile made Sakura weary. Jumping up on the rock as if he was just taking a casual step forward, Sakura watched him with growing suspicion as he closed in on her.

"All that aggression building up can't be good for you," he continues smiling, "What do you say I help you burn some of it off? You and me, a relaxing spar?"

Sakura stares at him dumbfounded. Wasn't he coming onto her only a minute ago and now he was trying to talk her into a fight? But Sakura's sharp intellect grasped onto the opportunity like an iron clamp.

"Alright," she accepts, "But you see, it wouldn't really be fair in my condition."

Sakura lifts her fists up from her lap as though they were handcuffed, prominently showing off the blue chakra suppressors clinging to her wrists. An unspoken request hung in the air between the two adversaries. She knew they would have to be removed, not because Kisame Hoshigaki was a stickler for fair fights, but because the match would be over before it even started. He wouldn't want it to be boring. However, she was also aware that Kisame (and the now silent Uchiha) would have their guards raised even more once they came off, making her snowball's chance in hell escape attempt even more impossible. But to not try…would be like betraying her village.

Kisame's eyes were fixed on the bands, a knowing smirk on his pale blue lips telling Sakura he knew what thoughts were running through her head. Still, he was going to do what she wanted. She could feel it. With her heart thumping in anticipation as Kisame closed the distance between them, Sakura held her breath as his own blue hands encased her wrists to release the seals on the matching bangles.

Air escapes her mouth in a rough exhale as his grip suddenly tightens to a near bone-crushing hold. Fearing she miscalculated him, had assumed too much, Sakura can do little to resist as the man referred to as the Tailed Beast without a Tail, yanks her to her feet.

"Before I remove these like I know you're dying for me to do, I think it only right that you discard all concealed weapons. This sparring match is going to be purely taijutsu so it's only _fair_, Sakura," the swordsman sneers the word.

_How on Earth could he possibly know?_

Sakura feels herself being spun around, each of her hands caught in the hold of a much larger blue one, her arms raised to accommodate the height difference.

Itachi, who had been a silent observer to her entire interaction with his partner, strides forward and shocks Sakura by kneeling before her with his focus entirely on her legs. Specifically, her right leg, where within her boot she had hidden the kunai dropped by Hidan. She marvels at the silent communication that had flowed between the two Akatsuki; Kisame hadn't even pointed out where the weapon was, but Itachi had located it without hesitation.

_He knew. He knew the entire damn time!_

With one hand locked under her kneecap, Itachi's fingers ghost along her bare skin as they slip into the interior of her boot to trace down the inside of her calf for the elusive weapon. Frustrated with her one little piece of hope being taken away before she can even make use of it, Sakura lifts her left foot off the ground to deliver a swift kick to the Sharingan user's side.

But foreseeing her devious thinking, Kisame hooks his own foot on the inside of hers and Sakura can't help but feel like she's trapped in some sort of odd, pseudo-tango pose. Itachi quickly slides the kunai from her boot and rises to his full height. Sakura watches with longing eyes as her kunai disappears into the weapon pouch hooked onto his back pocket.

Kisame lowers her arms, but doesn't release his grasp on them. With her hands pinned behind her back like a criminal being taken into custody, she feels a thrumming vibration run through the metal bands and feels Kisame's fingers slip them over her hands.

Finally, she was free of those abominations.

The pink-haired girl relished in the feeling of chakra coursing through her body; it had always been there, but had been barred from rising up whenever she had called upon it. And now, since she had been denied use of it since Danzo had first had her imprisoned, her chakra had built up to full capacity. Sakura was raring to go.

_Bring it, Akatsuki. Cha!_

She spun on her heel to watch the chakra suppressors being slipped up the sleeve of Kisame's cloak. She only wished he hadn't taken possession of them so she could have had the pleasure of grinding them into dust under her foot.

Kisame hoists Samehada from its holster on his back and plants it firmly into the gravel. Sakura knew better than to try to make a grab for it and wield it against its owner; she had heard of Guy's folly in this pursuit.

"Well then, now that that's taken care of, let's establish some ground rules. One, we keep it confined to the garden. Don't want to cause _too_ much damage. And two," Kisame thrusts his second finger up in a mockery of the peace sign, "No escape attempts. Wouldn't want to have to chop off those pretty legs of yours."

Sakura nods her assent, her eyes sharp as she plans on how to break both of Kisame's rules without getting caught.

"Ok then, kunoichi. Let's go."

Barely having processed what he just said, his tone calm so as not to reveal his thrill for the fight, Sakura could only duck as Kisame's kick came right for her face. As Sakura was quickly figuring out, Kisame was relentless and he had a massive storage of chakra, much greater than her own which hadn't been used in weeks. It was incredible.

Even in close combat, which Sakura excelled at, she doubted she could win against Kisame even though he had limited himself to only taijutsu.

_But I don't need to win. I just have to escape._

That in itself would be victory enough.

Sakura dodges a quick series of jabs to her side, turning her momentum into a cartwheel and ending with a back tuck to face her opponent. She locked eyes with Kisame and felt like she was staring down an intelligent predator. She had read the reports from the few who had encountered Kisame and lived to tell the tale. Despite his size and obvious love for the fight, he was fast and analytical. Sakura couldn't drag this sparring match on for too long or her true intentions were going to show through and she was going to lose too much chakra on trying to make it look convincing.

Sakura bounces lightly on her toes, sensing Kisame's rising irritation as he delivers strike after strike while she consistently evades contact. They wind their way through the boulders, fine-grained gravel kicking up at their feet. Sakura was doing her best to keep tabs on her position relative to the door she and Itachi had entered through, trying not to let her eyes wander in its direction too much.

"I didn't ask for a dance, kunoichi," Kisame growls out through a menacing grin.

It was true Sakura's showing was less than spectacular. She had been successful in maneuvering away from Kisame's far-reaching limbs, narrowly escaping an elbow to the back of her head, yet she had been on the defensive the entire time. Clearly, she would have to go on the offensive to keep him occupied while she made a break for it.

Still, truly confronting Kisame would increase her risk of injury, further diminishing her chances at successfully escaping.

Kisame's roundhouse kick meets Sakura's stomach with a solid _thud! _and she sails backwards into the unforgiving edge of the meditation rock Itachi was observing them from. Walking to her crumpled form, Kisame's triumph is mixed with disappointment at Sakura's lack of skill.

'Sasori-san was obviously exaggerating about her, probably to make himself look better since he got stuck fighting a little girl and – '

Kisame's musings are abruptly broken off as the pink-haired girl springs up from her back, and barely catches sight of the green fire blazing determinedly within her eyes before he's forced to jump to the side to avoid her butterfly kick.

"So you were holding back on me, eh?"

Sakura answers with a punch that makes Kisame grit his teeth in pain as he stops it with his hand, his fingers stinging in protest until he surges extra chakra into the appendage to cushion the blow. Nonetheless, he's forced to widen his stance for balance as he's unwillingly pushed backward. Sakura scowls in frustration as she tries to disengage her trapped fist, but her opponent makes use of his hold on her to flip her over his head and sling her into the ground like a ragdoll. Gravel bites into her cheek and she manages to rise up to her elbows in time to literally be kicked while she's still down. Kisame's heel digs uncomfortably into Sakura's stomach and she winces as his weight is pressed into the same spot he managed to land a kick earlier.

_Sadistic bastard._

He didn't appear to be out of breath in the slightest while Sakura could already feel the sweat prickling on her forehead.

Kisame bends down to reach for her exposed throat and he admires the graceful curve of it as well as her soft skin, warm beneath his touch. Lifting her head off the ground, his fingers flex threateningly around her neck, a silent declaration that the match was as good as over and he had won.

His fingers close around air as Sakura poofs away.

"A clone. You little sneak," Kisame's tone is jovial, not the least bit upset to be denied his victory. The little girl was proving herself to be much more interesting.

He tries to catch sight of her telltale pink hair and gets a brief glimpse before a slender, but surprisingly strong arm snakes around his own neck.

"Sorry, I hope you don't mind," Sakura replies without a hint of apology in her voice. She tightens her hold across his larynx, restricting his air flow and reducing any complaints Kisame may have had to unintelligible choking noises. With her legs wrapped tightly around his torso, she had effectively pinned his arms against his sides.

Still, even if she was curious to see if his face would turn purple from asphyxiation (or if it would simply turn a deeper shade of blue), Sakura couldn't have him passing out. That would leave her with Itachi to contend with.

No, she had to keep this fight strictly between Kisame and herself so that Itachi wouldn't be tempted to interfere. As long as she was convincing, she might be able to get Kisame riled up enough so he wouldn't want his partner to step in no matter what the circumstances. No matter what, she needed Itachi to remain a passive observer.

But she didn't have to worry about Kisame passing out from oxygen deprivation as the Akatsuki already had an idea in mind to get free. Sakura, clinging to the swordsman's back like an unruly koala bear, wasn't in a position to see the smile that stretched her hostage's pale blue lips.

Kisame simply let go and gravity did the rest.

Sakura's eyes, scrunched in pain, hungrily take in the dark sky above while everything from her chest down feels like it's being compressed to the width of a pancake. Her ribcage struggles to expand so much needed air could flow into her burning lungs, but her efforts are futile. Kisame's bulk is immovable and her only option is to release her hold on his neck.

Relinquishing her chokehold, her hands get within inches of his broad shoulders to push Kisame off her, but her wrists are slapped back into the gravel as Kisame does a backward tumble. Squatting near her head, his sharp teeth inches away from her face, Deidara's warnings about monsters in the Akatsuki circle through Sakura's brain.

"Not bad, kid," he tells her pleasantly, taking note of the rapid rise and fall of her chest as ragged pants escape her mouth.

Sakura doesn't acknowledge the comment. She swings her right leg up to catch Kisame on the side of the face with her foot. Kisame's grip loosens just enough at the shock of pain so that Sakura can wrench her arms free. Quickly, she puts some distance between herself and the Akatsuki. She watches as the ex-Mist nin carefully prods his lower jaw, rotating it around until it sickeningly _pops _into place. Sakura takes an involuntary step backward as Kisame's head jerks up to pierce her with a look that sends chills down her spine.

A wounded predator can be even more dangerous to deal with.

He charges at her, blurring before her very eyes until a blow to her back sends her stumbling forward. Correcting her balance, Sakura turns in time to block a second punch to her face, but Kisame counters with a low spinning kick to knock her legs out from underneath her. Scrabbling for purchase in the gravel, Sakura darts out of reach and Kisame jumps for higher ground on top of one of the rounded boulders.

Sakura hated to admit it to herself, but she was wearing out already. Stamina had never been her strong suit, and all those weeks spent imprisoned rather than training were starting to show. This needed to wrap up quickly if she was going to have enough energy to make it home.

And she knew, with the Akatsuki on her trail, it would be at breakneck pace the whole way.

_Let's end this._

Perhaps sensing a change in her demeanor, Kisame drops his antagonizing grin and mirrors her own serious expression with composure. Neither moves as they stare one another down and, in the silence, Sakura can make out the pitter patter of rain against the glass high above them.

_One._

Sakura clenches her right hand in a fist, missing the comforting fit of her worn leather gloves that had been thrown away back in Konoha's prison. Surreptitiously, she checks her positioning. It was about as good as she could hope for.

_Two._

Kisame's eyes dart from the tiny fist at her side to the stance of her legs. For once, the girl's expressive face was carefully schooled into an unreadable mask.

_Three!_

Sakura explodes in a burst of speed and Kisame can only wonder at her foolishly gutsy move to go for an obvious frontal attack. 'That will never work on me, kid.'

But Sakura launches herself in the air, flying towards Kisame in a graceful, deadly arc. He jumps backwards out of range and watches as her fist comes crashing down into the rock's surface where he had been standing a split second ago…

And gapes wide-eyed as he's forced to retreat even further away as the boulder crumbles into small fragments of sediment that fly out everywhere from the point of impact.

This was exactly what he had been hoping for. He glances around for the little Leaf nin to offer his praise, but has trouble locating her through the billowing clouds of rock dust. He does, however, make out the massive form of another rock, even larger than the one she had just demolished, hurtling straight towards him. Leaping skyward, he watches as the projectile collides with another boulder, rippling the air with a teeth-gritting, bone-rattling kind of sound.

But he has yet to catch sight of the little girl who had managed to live up to expectation. Opening up his senses and sending out a probing tendril of chakra over the now less than orderly garden, Kisame pinpoints Sakura's position and lets out a frustrated growl.

"I thought we had an agreement over the rules, girl," Kisame's polite speech is tinged with an unmistakable edge, "You weren't going to try to escape!"

His booming voice echoes off the surrounding rocks as he gives chase to the small, pink-headed form racing away to the farthest side of the indoor garden. Sakura knows only a few strides separate her from her pursuer, and swiftly leaps to the nearest boulder, Kisame following shortly after. Sakura heads straight for her destination: the tallest rock in the entire garden, the type of natural structure that looked as if it was made for the miserable urchins of Earth to climb to its very peak and bask in the light of the gods. Furiously, Sakura launches herself at its stormy gray side, applying chakra to the soles of her feet as she sprints up the nearly vertical incline to the top.

It was then that Kisame realized exactly how Sakura intended to make her escape. Reaching the rock's summit, Sakura sends a considerable amount of chakra into her legs to push off, and she goes airborne, like an arrow shot straight and true for the sky. Only a simple pane of glass separated her from her prize and she pulls back her fist to take care of it.

But before fist can meet glass, a fierce grip on her ankle slows her momentum right before she feels her entire course of direction changing as she's swung around one hundred and eighty degrees. Now Earth-bound, she can do little to slow her impending crash landing. She smacks the ground far below, sending up a spray of sand and rubble – and a cloud of smoke. Kisame's disbelieving eyes burn into the spot where the little girl should have been sprawled out in a broken, exhausted heap.

But there was nothing.

* * *

Giddy with nerves and adrenaline, the real Sakura races for her life through the Akatsuki base. If she thought fooling Kisame was the tricky part of the plan, she hadn't properly factored in the difficulty of navigating the maze of hallways in search of another exit.

But she couldn't erase what was surely a slightly manic smile from her face, positively elated that she had successfully fooled the Akatsuki with her diversion. Trying to break through the glass roof of the garden had been the obvious escape route for anyone in her position who had use of her chakra. It had taken more chakra than she would have liked to convince Kisame that she was truly invested in the sparring match, but if she could manage to get out of this place it would be well worth it.

Aware that her clone had already been dispelled, she adds another burst of speed to her already frantic pace. Closed doors on either side blur past in dark smears of color. Right now, she was banking on her ability to find the room she had discovered Itachi in earlier. The window had been small, but she was certain she could fit through it with some wriggling and it would lead her straight to the outside world.

_To finally be free…!_

Excitement fizzled in her blood as her memory led her around one corner and then another. But as the seconds ticked by and her panic continued to build, knowing that an enraged Kisame was hot on her trail, Sakura began to worry she had made a wrong turn.

_None of this looks familiar!_

Indeed, she was certain she had gotten it wrong somewhere along the way as she couldn't recall passing such an impressive set of ornate, scarlet doors, gilded with golden swirls and frescoes. Fearsome eyes of beasts from legend stared back at her angrily as she raced by.

Only marginally slowing her rapid strides as her mind worked furiously to come up with a solution, Sakura was just about to start opening doors at random. As long as she found one with a window she could get to, she didn't care if she walked in on the rest of the Akatsuki sitting around having tea time.

But just as this absurd image entered her head, Sakura felt the wind knocked out of her as she was sent falling forward, smacking her face against the small, beige tiles that were polished to gleaming perfection. An uncomfortable weight settled on her lower back, but it was much too light to be Kisame. She knew quite well how heavy he was; her lungs were still sore from being crushed underneath his muscled bulk. Her arms were pinned behind her painfully like clipped wings and someone's hand snagged a handful of hair at the nape of her neck, compelling her to lift her face off the floor.

The weight on her back shifts forward ever so slightly and warm expulsions of breath tickle her neck as Itachi speaks softly, "I do believe I mentioned that any of your escape attempts would be foolish."

Sakura struggles beneath him, infuriated with his knowing tone as she attempts to throw him off. Itachi responds by making use of his hold on her hair, and wraps the cherry blossom pink strands around his hand, pulling them taught until Sakura stills beneath him and wills the hot tears out of her eyes.

"Be sure you do not make the same mistake twice," he murmurs, relaxing his hold on her trapped locks and running his fingers through them in a manner that could almost be considered affectionate.

As Itachi rises from Sakura's back, he helps lift her to her feet and Kisame calmly joins them, having trusted his partner to track down the escapee as he went after the clone.

"Well, well, the little runaway got farther than I thought she would," Kisame's voice lazily drawls as he approaches the two, "I think she's missing something though."

Kisame's malicious smile intensifies at Sakura's dismay as she eyes the familiar chakra suppressors pinched between his fingers. Sighing in defeat, she allows Itachi to raise her arms while Kisame slips them back over her wrists and seals them. Once again, her own chakra is taken away.

Deeming her even less of a threat with the chakra suppressors firmly in place again, Itachi drops her arms and turns to head down the hall. Kisame makes a point of gesturing with his eyes for Sakura to follow and she glumly obeys with Kisame trailing closely behind should she decide to make any unwarranted detours.

With growing trepidation, Sakura rises from her depression long enough to observe the familiarity of the hallways they were now passing through. Sooner than she would have liked, the trio ended up in territory Sakura was most familiar with. Stopping in front of the scorpion's chambers, Kisame raps lightly on the door and is shortly answered by a less than amused puppet master. His gaze, hooded by heavy eyelids, falls upon the downturned face of his new doll, taking in the dirt stains and mussed hair.

Unimpressed with her behavior, he gives a curt nod of thanks to the other two Akatsuki. Itachi promptly strolls back in the direction they came from and Kisame nudges a resistant Sakura forward.

"Better keep a sharp eye on this one, Sasori-san. She's clever," with that, the swordsman makes his departure, giving Sakura a quick wink before following after Itachi.

Sakura steps into the enemy's room, the door swiftly shutting behind her with an ominous _click_. Hesitant to do anything while her captor remained so silent, Sakura stands rigidly still, unwilling to meet Sasori's eyes while the feeling of failure was so fresh in her system.

She thought she had been so close, but Itachi and Kisame took her entire escape attempt in stride. It was as if they had known exactly what she planned to do before she even knew it herself. The experience had solidified the fact that she was way below their caliber. Statistically speaking, the longer she remained an Akatsuki prisoner, the less likely she would ever be freed. She didn't even have the luxury of hoping a rescue team would be sent for her any time soon. As far as she knew, Danzo was still in control and most still believed her to be a tragic death in the hospital explosion. To be realistic about the situation, she only had herself to count on…and so far, she had let herself down.

Sasori clucks his tongue at her, agitated as he circles around her to survey the damage. He tips her chin up to the light and studies her scuffed up cheek with distaste. Sakura winces as his fingers lightly brush over the raw scrapes where the gravel had bitten into her skin. But by far, her worst injury was the ugly bruise blossoming to life on her abdomen where Kisame had delivered an exceptionally nasty kick.

But Sasori's feather-light touch had yet to brush across that wound as his inspection seemed to be getting delayed by some inner conflict. His usually serene expression was marred with barely checked frustration and Sakura took a nearly imperceptible step away from the Akatsuki. But that small movement was enough to ignite the red-head's foul temper.

"You impudent little brat!" he seethes.

Sakura eyes the muscles in his neck standing out just above the collar of his shirt.

"I made it perfectly clear that you were restricted to the rooms in this hallway, but as soon as I let you out of my sight you think you can make a break for it. And that fool Deidara is too incompetent to properly look after you," he spits.

"Do I have to actually lock you up for your own good, little girl? You've been well-accommodated here so far, but that can change," Sasori warns.

Sakura's anger spikes at the threat.

_He actually makes it sound like I should appreciate what a comfortable kidnapping experience I've had!_

Irked by his audacity, Sakura retorts, "I will _never_ stop trying to leave this hellhole. Do your worst, but you can't break me."

Grimly, Sakura thinks she has stunned the Akatsuki into silence as he simply regards her with wide, bewildered eyes. But it only lasts a second before he snaps back, shoving Sakura against the wall and holding her in place with chakra threads when she tries to strike back at him. Already, she was berating herself for not destroying the chakra suppressors as soon as Kisame took them off.

_I didn't think it mattered. I thought I wouldn't be here right now!_

Sasori sharply exhales through his nose, trying to regain a little piece of his calm.

"Break you?" he questions incredulously, anger glinting bright and hard in his eyes, "Make no mistake, child, none would be as tempted as me."

Sakura could swear her heart stopped for just an instant, despite her medical knowledge telling her otherwise.

"But," Sasori amends, "That is not my intention. If you weren't so blinded by your naivety maybe you would see that," his rage dissipates into a breezy whisper and Sakura feels the now (unfortunately) familiar touch of dexterous hands on her hips, the long, slender fingers splayed wide.

Sasori leans forward, his nose skimming along the edge of her jaw and Sakura is forced to remain perfectly motionless to allow him to do this. With only control over her own facial expressions, Sakura grimaces as his warm breath fans across her cheek, still nonplussed at the proof that he was a living human.

But as Sasori's fingers knead into the flesh at her hips, bringing her closer to him, his thumbs press into the tender, bruised skin of her stomach and Sakura bites back a hiss of pain. Sasori pauses, suspicion seeping into his features as one finger hooks under the hem of her shirt and lifts it up to expose her stomach. Sakura does her best to look down her nose to see the damage, being unable to bend her neck to accommodate the angle. All she knows is that it can't be very pretty.

Sasori's eyes snap up to meet hers, silently accusing.

_Blame the blue guy._

Sakura isn't even spared a second to laugh at her private joke before smooth lips crash against her own, heated and searching.

Shocked and glowing red with fury, Sakura's eyes are as wide as saucers as her screams of protest get muffled by the puppet master's hungry mouth. She promptly clamps her lips together, cutting off her scream, late night gossip sessions with Ino having taught her what would happen otherwise. Instead, she strains against the chakra threads, pouring all of her focus into lifting just her arm to beat back the advances of the Akatsuki.

But it was hopeless.

She might as well have been a statue for all the good it did. She couldn't remember ever feeling so weak, so powerless.

Not soon enough, the red-head slows, some of the hungry desperation fading away from his fervent kisses until they become light nibbles on her lower lip. Pulling his head back to observe her abused lips and mortified expression, Sasori is cool and composed and Sakura wonders where the untamed monster from just seconds ago had retreated to. Was it always there, just beneath the surface?

"You look frightened, Sakura," he pronounces each syllable of her name like it was a treasure to be coddled and Sakura is unable to take any joy in the fact that he'd finally called her by her name instead of "little girl".

Sasori cups her face in both hands, his fingers tracing the planes of her cheek bones. She doesn't utter a sound, too shocked and feeling too violated to deny it. She can feel her traitorous lips trembling against her will, but can't seem to stop them.

Sakura had been expecting something like this ever since she arrived at the Akatsuki base. These were criminals who abided by their own laws or no laws at all. As a kunoichi, she had received some of the most basic of training and instruction on how seduction missions were conducted, but her knowledge of it was by no means comprehensive. Plus, as an apprentice to Tsunade, her skills were much too valuable as a medic to ever use her for such missions. Needless to say, Sakura had had little opportunity to gain experience in this particular field and had been silently grateful that the Akatsuki had yet to do anything too wicked to her.

But now this…

_It will only get worse from here._

A small smile graces the puppeteer's lips, "What's the matter, darling? Is that all it takes to scare you into submission – a single kiss?"

Sakura can't stand that mocking tone, but she holds her tongue so as not to provoke any more harassment.

Sasori leans forward, his mouth level with her ear as if he were a lover about to indulge her with whispers of sweet nothings.

"You're so _fragile_, little one. If this is all it takes to make you come undone_…_I worry for your sake what will become of you here," he pauses to sample the sweet aroma of her hair, a scent that was a combination of shampoo and something that was just so uniquely _Sakura_. He had to commend himself for knowing true beauty when he saw it.

"When you become as I am – as I once was – '' he corrects himself, a flicker of irritation in his tone, "You will understand the truth of how meaningless a mortal life is. Eternal beauty – _that_ is what I wish to give you, my dear."

"And if I don't want it?" Sakura bites out, at last giving into her, perhaps, foolhardy desire to rile up the now carefully composed Sasori.

"Well," his velvet-like voice considers as the tips of his dark red hair tickle Sakura's nose, "You've never really been the one controlling the strings of your own destiny."

Sasori pulls away from Sakura, smugly satisfied with the crestfallen expression on her face. His fingers twitch and Sakura feels her body respond to his command, making her way to the door.

"Go bathe and return back here when you're finished. It's growing late."

With little input on the matter, Sakura obeys, itching with the desire to disinfect her mouth.

* * *

_Scooting a mound of sand off to the side, Sakura starts molding a much smaller pile in the indentation she had created. Her tiny fingers claw at the miniscule grains of rock, rounding off the top edge of her creation into two small arcs and tapering off the bottom into a decisive point. Carefully, she wipes away at the edges of the figure to dust away some of the looser sand, throwing her artwork into sharp relief. A short, humming giggle sounds in her throat and she studies her work with pride._

_A perfect heart._

_Well, perhaps not quite perfect, she realizes. Its symmetry is slightly lacking, but with only her hands for tools she decides it turned out pretty decent. With her work completed, Sakura glances around the playground, suddenly overwhelmed with the loneliness that had been quietly present ever since she first began digging in the sand. She was eight years old, a little too old to be playing in the sandbox, but still much too young to be out at night by herself at the park._

_She was all alone._

_The swings hung motionless and the gentle whisper of leaves was absent from the heavy branches overhead. The merry-go-round wasn't spinning with its familiar screech of metal and the monkey bars stood silent and empty like an abandoned skeleton. There was something menacing about an empty playground at night, something not quite right; it was as if such a place should only exist in the warm light of day_

_Sakura wraps her arms around her hunched body. How did she end up here? _

_It was then that she notices the oddity that had been nudging against the back of her mind, telling her that something really was off about this place even though it mirrored the playground just a few streets over from her childhood home. It was the color. The tones were all muted so that they were nearly indistinguishable from shades of whites, grays, and blacks. It was weak like her poor attempts at water colored paintings when she was a little girl and, at this memory, Sakura gasps at the sudden recollection that she isn't supposed to be a little eight year old girl anymore. _

_With fear quickly taking over her loneliness, Sakura's eyes dart around the playground, expecting to find some threat lurking at the edges of her vision. The shadows appear much more horrific than they did moments ago, the piles and scratches in the sand made by Sakura's own hands now look as deep and jagged as craters on the moon._

"_The moon –!"_

_Sakura's head jerks up, the moon reflecting in each of her dull green eyes._

_It was red._

_Hanging low and swollen in the night sky, full like a well-fed tick, the moon loomed overhead. It was the only thing in sight so brightly colored…It was perhaps one of the most evil-looking things she had ever laid eyes on. Lurching to her feet, sand spills from the creases of her clothing, but she can't break her gaze from the moon. Utterly transfixed, she watches with horrified surprise as the color leaches out of the moon…_

_And the sky rains red._

_Droplets of red, thicker than water – thick like blood – fall on every inch of the playground, including Sakura. She throws her hands up over her head, screaming in terror and begging for it to stop. _

_And it does stop. Almost as quickly as it started, the blood-rain shuts off as if some giant in the sky had heard Sakura and obligingly turned off the faucet. Sakura slowly brings the shield of her arms down, shaking at the sight of all that sticky red coating the chains of the swing she liked best, slickening the plastic slides she raced Ino down and forming puddles in the mulch pits at the bottom, and, worst of all, staining her skin. Sakura can't stop shaking, not even when the blood, defying its usual properties, starts sliding down her limbs to the ground below. It was as if her body was wrapped in some kind of skin-tight layer of plastic that the blood couldn't adhere to. In fact, all around her, she saw the blood behaving the same way, slipping down from the metal and plastic playground equipment. _

_It wasn't just slipping either. It moved like some invisible force was pulling it, sucking it in like a vacuum._

_That central point happened to be the heart Sakura had molded._

_All the color that evil moon had spilled upon the Earth was rapidly being drawn to the heart, and as it absorbed more and more, it slowly took on the vibrant red color of the rain. As the last dregs were sucked in, Sakura fell to her knees, her body spent with exhaustion. But she couldn't tear her eyes away from the heart just out of arm's reach._

_It pulsed. _

_Like a living heart, her symbolic one, made of nothing more than sand and whatever fell from the sky, throbbed with a steady beat._

_Not even fully aware of her actions, Sakura reaches out a hand to touch it._

_But something dark flashes in front of her eyes and the heart is snatched up before she can lay a finger on it._

_**I've heard that on a man's dying day, his heart will be judged for his sins and his virtues. It isn't a mystery what lies within mine. All the same…**_

_Sakura watches as an arm made of smoke and shadow holds up the beating heart, which had somehow morphed into what Sakura knew a true human heart looked like, and slides it into an equally insubstantial looking chest. But the heart disappears, as if swallowed up by that shadowy cavity and Sakura was left with a specter that appeared to be made of night. Only his eyes, red and spinning with black swirls too fast for Sakura to distinguish the shape of, looked solid and real. When he reached out a hand, Sakura found she couldn't move. Whether it was due to her own fear or by some doing of this shadow creature, she didn't know. _

_Still, she was surprised when his hand didn't pass straight through her. It was large and solid as it stroked the top of her head and Sakura tried to duck out from underneath it, but he grasped her chin to hold her in place, tiny wisps of smoky shadow curling around his fingers._

_**Poor child. Not even safe in slumber. There is no where you can go that I can't find you. **_

"_You!" Sakura replies aghast, batting away the hand that dared to touch her. She remembered now. She remembered that voice that haunted her from within her prison cell. That voice that made her question her ability to separate nightmare from reality just the other night._

_She knew she had to wake up. It was her only chance of escaping him for now. But no matter how hard she concentrated on willing herself awake, she remained there. Stuck in a playground that was just a sick imitation of the real thing. _

_Stuck with the monster who trapped her there._

_**You won't wake up until I will it so. Go ahead and try. There's no helping it.**_

_To prove his point, the shadowed man reaches out his hand again, too fast for Sakura to react to, and pinches her arm._

_Not expecting it to, Sakura lets slip a small yip of pain. It felt so real, yet this was surely a dream. An illusion of some sort. The man lets out a short chuckle at her expense, kneeling before her in the sand. Taking Sakura's hand, he places a chaste kiss in the center of her palm, as gentle as a butterfly's landing._

_**Hopefully, next time we meet you'll be in better form.**_

_The man turns her tiny child's hand over in both of his, measuring it against his own, palm to palm. Sakura wonders at this, thinking perhaps she does have some small degree of control in this place. It was her dream, after all. Focusing all of her concentration into a single thought, she wills the moon to glow brighter. If only there was a bit more light, maybe she wouldn't be so afraid._

_For a second, she thinks she's done it. The moon does seem to shine marginally brighter. But the man laughs as if she had just told him a particularly funny joke._

_**I don't think so, love. I'm the one in control here.**_

_The moon dims, its light barely enough to make out the dark outline of the swing set just a few meters away. Everything beyond that was shrouded in an opaque blackness._

_Only those bright red eyes stood out in this place of shadow. The edges of the phantom-man began to blur as he deformed into something much less definite. A swirling, gray mist enveloped Sakura and she was lost in a world that light had never touched._

_**Until next time.**_

* * *

Sakura couldn't seem to keep her tea in its cup. She mops up the small spills with a hand towel she had found for earlier such mishaps, too shook up to realize she was cleaning up after herself – something she had steadfastly been refusing to do as it was one of her only means of rebelling against her captors. But with that nightmare still fresh in her memory she had found that even small, simple tasks helped relieve some of her anxiety for a few brief seconds.

_Who is that man? He has the Sharingan…at least I think he does._

But Sakura didn't think the man was Itachi, even if that was the only logical possibility. There were only two people left in the world with eyes like those, one of them was a member of the organization that had abducted her and the other was a boy who wouldn't have anything to do with her or the village he left behind. So…it had to be Itachi Uchiha.

But the accusation didn't feel true on her tongue. Itachi hadn't tormented her like this when she came across him the day before. He had been infuriatingly confusing, but not malicious. Plus, he hadn't had the same presence about him as this person did. Itachi was daunting, of that there was no doubt, but at least she didn't get the impression that she was speaking with a wolf barely concealed in sheep's clothing.

Agitatedly, she drums her fingers against the lacquered surface of the table.

It was time to rethink how she was going about her escape plans. Tricking them into relieving her of the chakra suppressors probably wasn't going to happen again. She had blown her chance with that, and probably ensured that the Akatsuki weren't about to trust her or be fooled that she was complacent with her status as their captive. She had as good as declared to Sasori that she'd take every chance she got to get out of this place.

So where did that leave her? Was there another angle to work?

_And what was Itachi trying to say? _

Sakura shook her head, giving up on that train of thought. It was all too much for her. She almost considered her time back in Konoha's prisons, slowly losing her sanity one day at a time, to be preferable to this. At least then she had been home, close to the people she loved even though they didn't know she was there. At least there things had made more sense.

Sighing, she stands up, stretching her back and surveying the mess she had made from lunch. She had slept in late, her body sore from her fight with Kisame as it had been much too long since she had to exert herself like that. She had awoken to find the sheets draped over her legs and her shirt rolled up for a towel and cold compress pack to lie across her bruised abdomen. Surprised and a little upset that she hadn't woken up for any of this _care-giving_, Sakura had glanced over at Sasori who was lounging in bed beside her, propped up against a stack of pillows with a sketchpad resting on his lap and a charcoal stick in his hand. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the sketches, taking in the exquisite detail he had captured and reading the measurements written in his small, cramped handwriting off to the side.

He had said he'd been working on her designs. Here was proof of that.

Any small feelings of gratitude she may have held were abruptly squelched out of existence. With a quickly souring temper, Sakura had sprung out of bed. Yanking her shirt down, she cast a sharp glare at the bemused puppeteer before exiting with as much dignity as she could muster while sporting bed-head.

That had all taken place a few hours ago and she hadn't seen Sasori since, and she certainly didn't mind that. It had been another small stroke of luck that Deidara hadn't come to join her as he sometimes liked to do when she ate. While he never made her prepare food for him or even serve him tea, he certainly hadn't made it a secret that he wouldn't mind if Sakura felt so inclined to let her womanly domesticity take over.

Cracking her knuckles at the very thought, Sakura reaches into her bowl for a handful of mushy rice and flings it against the new shoji screen door for good measure.

Deciding to go snag a book from Sasori's room to feed her boredom, Sakura steps out into the hallway without a second thought and nearly loses her footing at the silently menacing presence churning the air around her.

How she had forgotten about The Lurker she wasn't sure. It was no easy feat, but she supposed she could attribute it to battle fatigue and…whatever had prevented her from a peaceful night's sleep.

As if scorning her forgetfulness, the dark chakra feels as if it's rubbing against her own, mocking it for being so useless as it remained dormant and unresponsive to her call. This chakra felt stronger, _angrier_, than it ever had before. It was jumpy, spiking to nearly unbearable intensity that made Sakura want to scream before simmering down to something that could almost resemble controlled before building back up again.

The only reason to make chakra spike like that was to serve as a beacon; to either call someone to you or warn them away.

_So which is it?_

But Sakura's curiosity was outweighed by the overwhelming urgency to run for someplace safe, if any place in the Akatsuki base could even be considered that.

Just like the last time this occurred, she decided to make a dash for Deidara's room as it was only a few doors down whereas Sasori's was nearly on the complete opposite end of the hallway. She hadn't seen Deidara all that recently and was beginning to wish the annoying artist had crashed her quiet afternoon tea. She didn't think this time would turn out like it had before in which all she had to deal with was a surprise meeting with an insane Jashinist and a little spilled blood.

To meet whoever was responsible for _this, _certainly wasn't on Sakura's to-do list.

Sprinting for Deidara's door, the malevolent force seems to reach a crescendo in intensity and Sakura isn't sure she's totally imagining the crackle of energy that ripples through the air to hum unpleasantly against her skin. But as soon as she wrenches the door open, the chakra and all its ill intent cuts off. Like switching a light on, it was gone. Instantaneously.

Sakura is immediately riveted by the scene in front of her. Deidara obviously wasn't present, but she wasn't alone in his room.

Sitting in the middle of the floor as if he had every right to be there was a man with a peculiar, orange swirled mask. Tipping his head up to regard the frozen kunoichi, he says a single word:

"_Sakura_."

That's all it takes for the hairs on the back of Sakura's neck to raise in alarm at that oh-so familiar voice.

She hears the sound of a doorknob jiggling, and only when she looks down at it in uncomprehending shock does she release it from her shaky grip.

Swallowing thickly, once for nerves and twice to allow her tongue to remember how to work properly, she manages one word, "Who –?"

But her mouth clamps shut.

_Come on, Sakura! Face your fear! Face it so it has no power over you._

But she is saved from either failing or accomplishing such a task at the arrival of an irate Deidara.

"TOBI!"

Deidara huffs and puffs in the doorway beside Sakura and she imagines she wouldn't be surprised to see steam coming out of his ears.

"Deidara-senpai! Tobi's been a good boy! Tobi made art for Deidara-senpai!"

Sakura nearly gets whiplash from how fast her neck jerks back to gawk at the masked shinobi.

_That voice…it isn't anything close to what it was a second ago!_

Indeed, this man greeted Deidara with the high-pitched delight of a little kid, much to the obvious annoyance of the blonde Akatsuki. It was nothing like the masculine baritone in which he pronounced her name with; the voice that she could have sworn was a dead ringer for the one that haunted her dreams.

Smacking his fist against the open door, Deidara stomps into his room and lunges for the other man's collar. Shaking him roughly, he snarls, "You little bastard! How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of my room, yeah?!"

"But D-Deidara-senpai!" the masked man blubbers, continuing to bewilder Sakura, "Tobi just wanted to surprise Deidara-senpai with the birdies he made. Look! They're just like Deidara-senpai's!"

The man oddly referring to himself by name, gestures with beseeching hands to the globs of clay scattered about him in a semi-circle on the floor. But, as Sakura observes the pathetically mal-formed "birdies," she's pretty sure the man's explanation isn't helping his case any. Deidara grows red in the face and splutters with rage.

"Idiot! Those are just knock-offs of the real thing, yeah. And piss-poor ones at that," Deidara spits contemptuously, grinding a food into the already squashed- looking body of one of Tobi's attempts at a bird.

"I'll show you true art, yeah!" the artist exclaims, mirthfully bad intentions shining brightly in his blue eye.

Tobi claps his hands together excitedly, bouncing up and down, still in his sitting position on the floor. But that quickly changes as the clay explodes around his feet and he jumps up, his feet dancing to some odd little jig as his arms flail haphazardly around his head.

"Deidara-senpai, make it stop!" Tobi whines in his goofy, high-pitched voice.

Sakura can only watch with weary puzzlement as one Akatsuki chases the other out into the hallway. Her ears ring with a symphony of small explosions as her eyes are dazzled by brief flashes of light.

* * *

**Author's Note: So at this point, most of the Akatsuki have been introduced. Just in case some of you are unsatisfied with the amount of time certain characters have had with Sakura so far, I hope you'll be happy as most of them will be getting a little more attention in the next chapter and by the end of the story. Speaking of which, I really can't give a good estimate on how many more chapters there will be; I'll probably have a more clear idea after the next update. Oddly enough, I already have the very ending written out (so yay! for having a goal in sight).**

**Now to address some things from all of your lovely reviews (and I do appreciate them greatly!): As far as pairings go for this story, hopefully that will be answered at the very end. But to make it clear as to where things sit now, it is very much one-sided. Each of the Akatsuki are attracted to Sakura in some way while she is steadfastly holding onto her role as a devoted kunoichi of Konoha and showing no interest in returning their advances. And I'm glad someone else loves it when Madara refers to Sakura as "love." I've seen a few other authors do this as well, and there's just something about it that strikes me as "right." What can I say? I like a creepy, somewhat love-sick Madara in fanfiction.**

**As for a few side notes in this chapter, I completely made up the lyrics for "Why the Caged Bird Sings." However, there is a beautiful poem called, "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings," by Maya Angelou. It has the same message I tried to evoke in one short verse, only she executes it much more skillfully. As for the other song Itachi plays that I didn't provide any words for, "The Hero's Lament," I completely made up the title. There could very well be songs or poems out there under the same name, but they are unrelated to this story. I was thinking kind of ironically in regards to what Kishimoto has done to Itachi's character in the actual series and if there was ever a song written in tribute to Itachi's life, I think that would serve as an acceptable title.**

**Song used for this chapter's inspiration: "All Around Me" by Flyleaf.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto. **

**Rated M: Due to coarse language, violence, and some adult themes.**

* * *

Sakura was lying on her stomach, sprawled out across the width of her bed. For once, she was actually in her own room, a place she saw so little of unless she was making use of her mercifully private bathroom. For the past hour or thereabouts, she had been studying a text on medicinal herbs, marveling at the annotations written in the margins by the owner of the book. In fact, it was the handwritten words and folded up scraps of paper tucked away within the pages that held her rapt attention. The notes were detailed instructions on how to prepare some particularly nasty-sounding poisons, complete with side effects and estimated expiration time of the victim. Sakura had been trying to commit to memory the mixing tables that had also been provided to create an antidote for these homemade toxins. It could prove to be valuable information when she returned home.

For all his lackadaisical airs, Sasori's wide, calm eyes were incredibly perceptive. He had stopped by Sakura's room, unannounced, shortly after the book went missing. Finding the girl studiously poring over it like a school girl while curled up in her bed, he had dismissed her antics with a laugh. Informing her that those poisons were outdated by at least a decade and wouldn't be found in his arsenal anymore as he had formulated them when he was still a child, Sasori had left the unresponsive Sakura to her own devices.

_If he was telling the truth and he really did come up with all of these when he was just a kid…he's brilliant._

It ate away at her pride a little to admit someone _that_ psychotic could also be quite intelligent.

Still, she continues to flip through the pages, taking out all the loose papers and collecting them in a small pile. She had to use caution with their stiff folds and yellowed edges, being reminded that Sasori's youthful appearance is actually quite misleading. Delicately, she runs a finger over the rough, dried out note that currently has her attention, tracing the carefully inked words of a child who would later stray so far from the true path of a shinobi. The brittle pages, probably bone dry from Suna's scorching deserts, hold an alluring kind of pull. Sakura almost feels like she has some kind of connection to the man whose notes she is reading; like she could almost begin to understand some of his thinking.

Of course, that didn't hold true for the man currently known as Sasori of the Red Sand. For all the promise he showed on paper, he had destroyed himself. All that potential had been twisted into something cruel and malignant. He became a deranged criminal who puts Sakura's nerves on edge.

A short knock on the other side of the door brings Sakura out of her brooding thoughts. Before she can respond, the door swings inward to reveal a rather loose-limbed Deidara with a lopsided smile on his face.

"Sssaakuurraa," he slurs cheerfully, "C'mere, my little songbird, yeah."

_Is he…drunk?_

Scooting back to the far edge of her bed, Sakura clutches Sasori's book to her chest like a security blanket.

"What do you want?" Sakura asks apprehensively as her fight-or-flight instincts kick in.

"I just wanted to see my little birdy, yeah. She's caged up in here all the time," Deidara enters, scrutinizing the depressingly bland décor as if he had never stepped foot inside her room before.

Hugging the book tightly, she scrunches her nose in confusion and replies, "What are you talking about? I rarely ever get to stay here."

But Deidara either doesn't hear her, or chooses to ignore her response. Instead, he saunters over to the bed and reaches out with both hands to pry the book away from her.

"You're reading? How boring, yeah," the blonde comments. As though exasperated with her behavior, he exhales a heavy puff of air that momentarily sends his bangs flying and Sakura catches a glimpse of the scope normally left hidden.

"Come have some fun, yeah," Deidara says, and flippantly tosses the book over his shoulder. Sakura, morally appalled with his treatment of books, watches with abject horror as the weathered text skids into the far corner.

_All that knowledge – and he just throws it away like garbage. I don't care if it does belong to that creep; it's valuable!_

"I'd rather not," Sakura mumbles wearily, knowing full well that if the Akatsuki wanted her to come with him, she could do very little to dissuade him.

Deidara wraps his tanned hands around her forearms, pulling her forward so quickly she collides against him. As Sakura uses both of her hands to push away from him, her nose is assaulted with the stale, musty scent of spirits.

_Definitely been drinking._

As if suddenly realizing he has her in his arms, Deidara pulls Sakura into a hug, lifting her feet clear off the floor. Sakura's vision is obscured by a curtain of golden locks and she squeezes her eyes shut, willing it to end. Sighing in contentment, Deidara presses a warm cheek against Sakura's own, rubbing it back and forth while relishing her softness. Sakura squirms in his hold, kicking out into thin air for some kind of solid ground.

"We could stay here, you know," Deidara's husky voice whispers into her ear, "Have our own fun, yeah."

Sakura wriggles in his hold with renewed vigor.

_No way in hell!_

Sakura lands a sharp kick to his shin, and though it is not chakra-fueled, the power behind it is enough for Deidara to yelp in surprise at the sudden sting of pain. Sakura drops to the ground and raises her arms, ready to defend herself. But the bomb artist of the Akatsuki doesn't erupt in profanities or outcries of rage. He bursts out laughing as though enjoying the entire situation before diving for Sakura and sending them both falling to the hardwood floor.

Like playful puppies, the two roll around on the floor in a jumble of limbs; one trying to dislodge herself while the other keeps sabotaging her hard work. All the while, Deidara wears a particularly manic smile and if not for the vague, slightly out of focus look in his eyes, Sakura would have assumed he meant to kill her.

Sakura's arms extend to their limits, trying to pull herself out of Deidara's clutches, but her hands find no purchase on the slick floor and her nails drag lightly against it in vain. Deidara had somehow trapped her in an inescapable hold, both arms locked around her waist as he holds her partially under the weight of his upper torso.

As a child, Sakura had imagined being dragged under her bed by the Boogeyman in just such a manner,

_I'd really prefer the Boogeyman right now._

Her palms slide uselessly against the floor as she's pulled back closer to the blonde and flipped onto her back to face his wicked triumph.

"Got'cha, yeah," he smiles like the cat that got the cream.

"You lied. What happened to being the tamest of the Akatsuki monsters?" Sakura tries to goad him into acting more rationally, recalling what he had said to her the one night she had spent in his company.

But her accusations slide right off as he chuckles, "I only said I'm not the worst; I never said I didn't have desires of my own, yeah."

"W-Well, I think you're just as bad as any of them. Worse, actually. I haven't had to put up with_ this_ from any of the others."

Sakura desperately tries to push Sasori's kiss out of her mind.

"Ha! You think you've made it this long without being touched by those bastards because of their own volitions, yeah? Wake up, sweetheart. The only reason you haven't been ripped to shreds yet is thanks to Sasori no Danna and myself, yeah," Deidara's light tone turns derisive.

Sakura can feel herself fighting an uphill battle. Deidara isn't going to let her go just because she reminded him that he had built himself up to sound better than his fellow Akatsuki members. And could it be true? Could Deidara and Sasori have been keeping the other members from getting too close to her without her knowing? And if so, what would happen to her if they suddenly stopped?

"I think it's only right that you reward me for protecting you so well, yeah."

"Let. Me. Go. Deidara," she tries to say as threateningly as possible, but even in his current state, Deidara is fully aware he has the upper hand.

"Why would I do that, little birdy?" he croons. A cascade of corn silk hair walls off Sakura and Deidara from the outside world and she shivers as he lowers his head, their faces separated by a mere whisper.

His hands find her wrists to wrap around them tightly and Sakura grimaces at the sensation of those awful tongues lashing out against her skin.

His blue eye observes her with clinical interest as they both meet the conclusion (one with despair and one with elation) of what comes next.

"I have you exactly where I want you, yeah" his lips are so close, they ghost against her own, "Little bird."

Deidara's mouth presses more firmly against her own, melding against her tightly closed lips as if trying to shape her mouth around his own as artfully as he would mould clay in his hands.

Sakura screws her eyes shut, trying to imagine herself just about anywhere but _here_ where she is trapped underneath a man with less than honorable intentions. She can feel the heat rising off of Deidara's skin and contemplates the possibility of second-hand drunkenness.

Sakura tries to remain unresponsive, just as though Sasori had rendered her a lifeless doll. Deidara had seemed to appreciate her expressiveness. Perhaps if she denies him of that satisfaction, he'd soon grow bored and stop.

But if anything, her apathy just eggs him on. Determined to get a reaction out of the kunoichi, Deidara attacks her neck, sucking on the delicate, porcelain-toned skin and leaving a trail of light love bites. Sakura can't take it any longer; bucking like an untamed horse, she tries to push his weight off of her with all of her might. But with his hands trapping her own down, he had effectively anchored himself to her.

"I swear, if you don't get off of -!"

Sakura's indignant screech is cut off as the blonde's mouth seizes her own once again and eagerly takes the opportunity to plunge his tongue between her parted lips. Sakura mentally gags at the sensation, being completely new to the experience. She frets she may never enjoy kissing again.

Cramming her tongue as far back into her mouth as she physically can, she wishes she had someplace to hide it. Deidara's tongue is brazen and explorative, enjoying her mouth like new territory in need of conquering. Sakura kicks her feet in protest, but they bang uselessly against the floor.

When his tongue traces along the edge of her top row of teeth, Sakura reacts before she even processes her decision to do so. Her jaws snap together and Deidara pushes away from her with a dumbfounded look on his face. He releases his claim on one of her wrists in favor of bringing his fingers up to probe his wounded tongue. His index finger comes away with a small stain of red, the color of blood watered down with saliva.

Sakura is certain she's about to die an explosive death.

But his face relaxes as he takes in Sakura's shaken expression and Deidara laughs – a full, hearty laugh that scares Sakura more than it reassures her.

"I had assumed you were all bark and no bite, yeah. Looks like I was wrong."

If Deidara's grin is anything to go by, Sakura reckons he isn't too distraught at being mistaken.

"You're a medic, aren't you, Sakura-chan? Won't you kiss it and make it better, yeah?" Deidara's pout is ruined with the uncontrollable smirk edging into its place.

"Bite me!" Sakura hisses, shoving him in the chest with her now free hand.

"Oh, little bird, you don't have to ask me twice, yeah," his voice holds a note of danger. Too late, Sakura realizes her poor choice of words.

In a burst of passion, Deidara's mouth latches onto her neck with purpose. More frenzied than before, his nipping and sucking resumes. Occasionally, Sakura feels the scrape of teeth and she knows the artist is being thorough in leaving his mark. Her skin already feels worn and tired underneath his forceful lips.

_Kami, make it stop._

Sakura seals her lips and shuts her eyes, willing herself far, far away.

But it's difficult to do when a monster is breathing hard against her throat.

"Deidara-senpai!"

At the sudden outcry, Deidara's mouth stills against Sakura's skin and their gazes lift in unison to the open door.

Light from the hallway is blocked by the figure standing in the doorframe, but Sakura recognizes the voice – that awful, peculiar voice that might just be masking something far worse.

Deidara's lips mutter something foul against her throat before he sits up, straddling Sakura's hips and fixing Tobi with an annoyed look that should have caused the masked man to spontaneously combust.

Sakura wishes it had.

"What the hell do you want, yeah?"

"Tobi came to find Deidara-senpai because Deidara-senpai was supposed to return with pretty Sakura-chan," he chirps in reply.

_Pretty Sakura-chan?_

For some reason, the compliment makes her skin crawl.

Deidara lets out an aggravated sigh

Cocking his head to the side, Tobi regards the tangled pair on the ground, "What is Deidara-senpai doing to pretty Sakura-chan? Ah, Tobi knows! Deidara-senpai is having a spar with Sakura-chan, right?"

_Yeah…with his tongue._

"No, Tobi," Deidara's voice grits out between clenched teeth. Figuring his alone time with Sakura would have to be put on hold, Deidara runs an agitated hand through his bangs before extricating himself from Sakura's form. Sakura resolutely refuses the hand offered to her and puts more than an arm length's distance between herself and the Akatsuki bomber.

"Ok, we're coming you little nuisance, yeah," Deidara waves a hand in the air to shoo the other Akatsuki away, but Tobi remains in his place, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Hurry, Deidara-senpai! Tobi wants to play!" the man begs.

"You're not playing, yeah," Deidara says in a deadpan tone, grabbing Sakura by the arm and leading the group into the hallway.

But Tobi seems not to have heard and dances giddily behind Deidara and Sakura as they make their way through the Akatsuki base.

Sakura only wishes she knew what to expect.

* * *

Well, whatever she had in mind, it certainly wasn't this.

When Deidara had mentioned going with him to have some fun, and then when Tobi had showed up and mentioned "playing," Sakura had envisioned being strapped down to a spinning target board while all the Akatsuki took turns throwing kunai at her.

It certainly hadn't been the Akatsuki sitting down for a night of drinking and subsequent drinking games.

Instead of a cold, damp dungeon, Deidara had led her to a cozy room warmed by a small square fire pit and an assembly of heated bodies.

Sakura's nostrils flare at the overpowering smell of alcohol choking the air. The entire room is done in dark wood paneling and cream colored shoji screen doors, with two rows of thick support beams dividing up the space. Antique glass lanterns are suspended from the rafters, providing a rich glow to a room that already feels warm and fuzzy from all the booze. The room appears to have met some sort of compromise between dark and light color palates; the only splashes of color being the plush floor pillows woven in vibrant shades of jade green and golden thread. In the far right corner of the room, Kisame and Hidan are sitting down at a table made of heavy, dark oak. Upon the trio's rather noisy arrival (thanks to Tobi breaking out in some nonsensical song he had made up on the spot), the two look up from their casual conversation and observe Sakura's less than thrilled expression at being there.

"Well now, if it isn't the little runaway," Kisame's face splits in a broad grin and Sakura thinks to herself that his teeth look extra sharp tonight.

_Wonder if he files them…?_

Hidan simply tips back his drink, his eyes smoldering over the rim of the glass as he regards Sakura with interest.

"Tobi brought Deidara-senpai and pretty Sakura-chan back just like Tobi was asked. Tobi found Deidara-senpai and Sakura-chan sparring!" the masked man bobs his head in confirmation of his own words, bouncing over to the table to reach for the bottle next to Hidan's glass. Hidan snatches it out of reach, shooting Tobi a dirty look.

"Sparring?" Kisame quirks an eyebrow in amusement, looking at Deidara to elaborate.

"We weren't sparring, yeah," Deidara sighs exasperatedly, unceremoniously dropping to the floor to take his place at the table, "Tobi is an idiot, yeah."

A brief glance is exchanged between Kisame and Hidan before they turn to Sakura with identical smirks curling up the corners of their mouths.

Sakura feels the heat pooling in her cheeks and wants nothing more than to smack them all upside the head. It takes all of her willpower to keep her hand from covering the mark on her neck. Instead, she uncertainly stands her ground, just on the fringe of the Akatsuki's little social circle. As she takes in the assembly, she finds it a bit funny that those present are each one half of a team. Although, she amends, Kakuzu is present, but appears to be keeping himself out of the more sociable crowd in the Akatsuki. He had secluded himself to a small desk in the opposite corner, flipping through stacks of bills and rubber-banding them together before making a mark in an official-looking ledger. She spots a glass tumbler perched on the edge of his work space, filled with a questionable amber liquid on the rocks.

"Well, kunoichi, are you going to stand around all day or are you going to take a seat?" Kisame asks, watching as Sakura battles with herself over whether or not she could get away with telling her kidnappers she'd rather die than sit down for an evening of pointless drinking.

In the end, Sakura's shoulders slouch in defeat as she shuffles to the only unoccupied seat cushion at the table. Unfortunately, that brings her around the table to Hidan's side. He welcomes her with a grin that would have given the Cheshire Cat a run for his money.

Before she can even comfortably situate her legs, an arm drapes around her shoulders and she's tugged entirely too close for comfort against the Jashinist's side.

"So you've come back to me, bitch. About damn time," Hidan's arrogant tone grates on Sakura's nerves, not to mention the fact that he seemed to have something against wearing shirts.

_He could at least zip up that stupid cloak!_

Sakura tries to lift her face away from Hidan's exposed chest where the Akatsuki had effectively pressed her cheek.

_Fancy that, he actually has a heartbeat. _

"Ok, let's get this shit show started," Hidan commands in high spirits.

Deidara's frosty glare from across the table has little to no effect on the Akatsuki currently manhandling Sakura, and Kisame takes it in stride, pouring a round of shots for everyone. She isn't sure about the masked man sitting directly across from her; the single eye hole in his orange mask draws her in like a black hole…

Sakura's attention snaps back to the present as Kisame calls her name, reaching out to her with a sake cup made of black porcelain.

_I don't know about this…_

Tsunade, in her particularly gregarious moments of inebriation, would offer Sakura a small taste of whatever bottle she happened to have opened at the time. Sakura would vehemently decline, but there had been a few occasions for celebration in which her mentor had coaxed her into letting loose for once and, after declining the hokage's repeated offers with waning conviction, she gave in and sampled a few cups of sake. Some of it had been awful; Sakura would never forget her first experience in which she had nearly sprayed an entire mouthful right back in the face of her teacher as she choked on the burning trail the alcohol left down her throat. By no means did she have any sort of tolerance, but surely she could manage a cup or two without any problems.

_If only I had my medical jutsu at my disposal, the possibility of getting drunk wouldn't even be an issue._

Sakura had always wondered why her mentor never spared herself from the impressive hangovers she'd occasionally get (and it took quite a bit of work to make that happen).

But, if Sakura could remain clear-headed throughout this little social gathering, it could be an opportunity to collect some intelligence. Mentally nodding to herself to confirm her plan of action, Sakura reaches out to accept the cup from Kisame. Hidan releases his grip on Sakura to allow her to reach across the table and take the cup in both hands, causing her to nearly drop it when he smacks her on the bottom. Shooting him a death glare, Sakura settles down as far away from the religious man as their narrow quarters will allow. Burning with indignity, she swirls the contents of the cup around in an attempt to identify the liquid.

The large, ex-Mist nin gives her a toothy grin.

"Hope you can handle it, girl," he says, clearly believing Sakura couldn't.

The Akatsuki simultaneously raise their cups and practically inhale the alcohol. Sakura swears to herself that if she had blinked she would have missed it.

_Freaking show-off alcoholics._

Sakura is mildly disappointed she had been denied seeing behind Tobi's mask when he accepted his own drink; the peculiar man had turned away from the table to drain his cup.

Sakura looks down at her own drink in hand, suddenly feeling a lot less bold. Sure, she could handle a cup, but what if they kept insisting she had more? They'd force it down her throat just for the fun of it. And even if they didn't, they were still consuming alcohol like it was going out of style. Deidara had already tried to make a pass at her…

_What was I thinking? I can't hold my own in a drinking contest with three grown men. How exactly did I think I was going to get them to spill all of their organization's secrets? Stupid, Sakura. Stupid!_

With all eyes on her, Sakura grudgingly tilts her head back to down the cup…

And fights back her gag reflex as she takes too long in swallowing and allows the overpowering flavor to settle on her tongue.

Hidan clucks in mock disapproval, "Damn, you drink like a bitch. Hey, I don't think she's going to be able to fucking keep up with us."

Hidan throws his hands up in a what-can-you-do kind of gesture, but Sakura could see the gears in his twisted, little brain working out ways in which he could use this to his advantage.

"Now, now," Kisame replies good-naturedly, "I say we at least give her a chance. Who knows? She might drink us all under the table."

Sakura crosses her arms.

_Don't do me any favors, blue man._

"Tobi wants to play! Tobi wants to play! What's the game?" Tobi tilts his masked head in Kisame's direction.

Deidara stiffens at the enthusiastic outburst, his hands curling into fists against the table.

"You're not playing, yeah," he grunts, refusing to spare Tobi even a glance for fear he'd stuff a bomb through the eye hole of that god-awful ugly mask. Kakuzu did happen to be in the room after all, and he'd have a heck of a time putting the blame on Tobi even though it always is _his _fault.

At Tobi's disappointed whines, Kisame speaks up in an attempt to save the room from any damage brought about by one of the blonde artist's fits of rage.

"Sorry, Tobi, you'll have to sit this one out. This is a four-person game and we want Sakura here to actively partake in the fun. How about you just watch for now?"

Tobi nods his head seriously, "Yes, Tobi is a good boy and Tobi will let Sakura-chan play in Tobi's place. Tobi will watch!"

"Fffuuuucck," Hidan draws out the word to an obscene length, "Can we get on with this already?"

Sakura smacks the hand away that had settled on her knee. Hidan's lips twitch into a smirk, but he doesn't make eye contact with the kunoichi at his side.

"Well," Kisame hesitates, eyeing Sakura curiously, "I'm going to take a guess that the little lady here doesn't know much about cards.

Sakura glances away, shrugging her shoulders noncommittally. Truthfully, she really doesn't know much in the way of card games, refusing to get lured into the addiction of gambling after seeing its effects on her mentor. She isn't about to bring up her mastery of Go Fish or Crazy Eights in front of these hardened criminals; especially not when her opponents had been Naruto or Ino at various times.

"Right, then," Kisame chuckles at the kunoichi's silence, "How about a dice game?"

Kisame's hand appears out of the long sleeve of his cloak, reaching out to place something in the middle of the table for all to see. Something hard clacks against the lacquered surface of the table and when he draws back his hand, two ivory dice contrast sharply against the dark grain of the wood. On each die, Sakura observes the tiny dots painted on each face in a color that suspiciously resembles blood. Hoping it's just a good match in paint color, Sakura looks back up to the swordsman for further instruction.

"So here are the rules, kid: we're on teams of two here. You and Hidan-san make a team while Deidara-san and I are on the opposing team. One member from each team faces off, rolling one die each to see who gets the higher roll. The lower roll has to take a shot. This process repeats as many times as can be fit into a three minute interval, during which time, the partner not engaged in the face-off will be helping out with refilling the shot glass. Pretty simple concept, right?"

_Yeah. It's basically a game with the sole intention of getting all the players drunk. Lovely._

"One question," Sakura holds up her index finger, ignoring the derisive snort from Hidan, "What decides the winner?"

Kisame leans back on his hands, fixing Sakura with a devious smile, "Well, you could say there really isn't any concept of a winner in this game. But the game is considered over when at least one person is…no longer capable of proceeding."

_Oh joy._

"Tobi-san, how about you keep an eye on the time for us and call out when each round ends?" Kisame points to the clock on the wall across the room.

Tobi salutes him in response and Sakura doesn't miss Deidara's eye roll.

And so the game begins.

Sakura and Kisame are paired to go against each other first. Swallowing her apprehension, Sakura rolls her die, praying Tsunade's bad luck hadn't rubbed off on her. And at first it seems it hadn't; Sakura rolls a six against Kisame's two and the Akatsuki just shrugs his shoulders in good humor at her beginner's luck. After two more rolls, Sakura had yet to take a drink of the foul liquid waiting for her in the cup at her elbow – Hidan had made sure to fill it to the brim. But on the fourth roll, Kisame takes his revenge and Sakura prepares herself with a steadying breath before emptying the cup as quickly as she had witnessed the Akatsuki do it. Her mouth curls downward at the taste, but she isn't given time to complain as the next roll of the dice is cast.

And she has to drink again.

The game proceeds in this manner, volleying back and forth in a battle of luck. Hidan, despite being on her team, seems delighted to be supplying Sakura with more and more drink; never berating the die for not rolling in her favor and even going so far as to provoke Kisame when his rolls come up short. Sakura wipes her mouth in agitation as Hidan plucks the empty cup from her fingers, his eyes dancing with silent laughter after she just downed five cups in a row.

"Shut up!" she snaps at the Jashinist.

"I didn't say anything, crazy bitch."

Sakura starts to feel too warm and desperately wishes the room had a window to open to help soothe her feverish skin. Finally, Tobi cries out that time is up and the dice switches hands. Sakura wants nothing more than to recline against the wall at her back and just let her mind drift for a bit, but Hidan yanks her forward and up against his side once more, demanding she pay attention and fulfill her obligations of keeping his cup full for him just as he had done for her.

_Fine, smartass. I'll be sure not to skimp out on my servings either. You were sooooo generous for me, after all._

Hidan just smiles at her each time he knocks back the cup she prepares for him, knowing full well that she had been irked during her turn because he wouldn't give her a break.

Sakura's three minutes had felt like they lasted for more like three years before Tobi signaled time was up. Hidan's turn, on the other hand, seems to fly by in the span of more like three seconds.

Before she can process what's happening, Hidan shoves something into her hand and Sakura's fist closes around the die with the desire to squash it like a grape. But Kisame's waiting stare prompts her to toss it on the table and Sakura's emptied hand falls against the table.

She drinks.

* * *

Sakura has lost all concept of time. Leaning heavily on the edge of the table and propping her chin up on her free hand, she carelessly flicks her wrist and the die goes skittering off the table and over the edge. Deidara leans over to his side to retrieve it and nearly falls over, his balance being severely compromised. For some reason, Sakura can't keep her giggles down; everything has become infinitely more funny (even the fact that she is playing a ridiculous game with three drunken Akatsuki). Blinking owlishly, Deidara rises back up and jerkily hands over the die to Sakura. It slips through her fingers.

"Oops," Sakura giggles even louder.

Vaguely, a little voice in Sakura's head prods her to be careful; she's in a dangerous situation. The clock across the room had blurred into a white smudge on the wall two turns ago so she isn't certain how long the game had been going on for. If she could count up the number of times she had played and factored in the amount of time played by the other two partners, the simple math would have told her. But Sakura isn't in any kind of mood to be calculating numbers in her head.

_How many turns has it been? Five? Six? Seven?_

Sakura groans internally, slumping against something soft and warm as the die is cast once more. This something loops an arm around her waist and holds her closer, resting his face atop her head.

_Hidan?_

Sakura knows she should push him away. He disgusts her, yet here she is, willingly using him as her personal leaning post. But Sakura can't summon enough anger, or even fear to push the handsy Akatsuki away. Her body feels sluggish and placid, content to just stay put. Sakura's foot nudges one of several empty bottles that had been carelessly swiped off the table and onto the floor. Fighting to focus her eyes on the team across the table (her head wobbling on her neck as though all the alcohol had pooled in her brain to slosh around), Sakura observes Deidara involuntarily swaying ever so slightly from side-to-side. She wonders how much he and the others had had before she was dragged into this nonsense. Kisame, she notes with envy, appears to be fairing considerably well still. Stretching out to his full height, he had his sandaled feet propped up on the table and had been relaxing against one of the support beams at his back. His aim had remained accurate enough to land the die on the table every time from this reclined position.

_Show-off._

Something tickles its way up Sakura's thigh and she ignores it at first, not thinking clearly. As her turn drags by in what feels like slow motion, the tickles turn into slow, circular rubs that start easing their way a little too north. Sakura reaches down with one hand to clench Hidan's offending fingers in a vice-like grip.

He grunts in pain and Sakura flashes him an innocent smile as Kisame takes a drink. The alcohol buzzing in her system has efficiently numbed Sakura to most of the worries that had been eating away at her for weeks. She feels light and wonders if this is how a bubble feels as it floats through the air.

_Or, maybe like all those little bubbles that fizz in a champagne glass._

Sakura hiccups and giggles to herself.

Tobi, drumming his fingers against the table, finally calls time and Kisame asks for a short break as he fetches another bottle of booze to replace the recently emptied one. Sakura sighs in thanks of the reprieve and nestles her head in her arms crossed on the table. Pressing her cheek against its cool surface, she closes her eyes in an attempt to make the room stop spinning. Across from her, Deidara nearly mirrors her actions. Sakura laughs quietly to herself, pleased that she had managed to keep up with them so far. She wants to quit, but knows it won't be allowed, and so she can only hope that one of them passes out before she does.

_I dun wanna passh out here._

She hears Kisame coming to sit back down and the sound of a cork being popped causes her stomach to turn in revolt.

"Tobi is tired of watching. Tobi is going to go now!" the man announces to his less than attentive audience.

Sakura jolts up from the table at the too-loud voice, surprised she had mostly forgotten his presence except when she had felt like he was never going to call time.

_Dangerousshh, Ssaakuuwwar. Very dangerousshh._

"Ugghh, I call for, uuhh…time-out, yeah," Deidara speaks around a slow tongue, falling onto his back with his knees bent up toward the ceiling.

Inwardly, Sakura agrees with him, but isn't about to voice her opinion out loud. Not like she could sound any more articulate than Deidara in her current state.

"Oh? Sounds like someone's tossing in the towel," Kisame teases, looking down at the sprawled out artist.

Deidara mumbles something unintelligible, waving his hand in Kisame's general direction before letting it drop across his eyes.

"Pansy-ass," Hidan grumbles at Deidara, despite his own violet eyes looking a little glazed over and unfocused.

"Oh well," Kisame grins in dismissal, "Just means we can finally break out the good stuff."

Sakura gapes at the large, expensive bottle of aged wine Kisame pulls out from under the table and decides she needs to make her exit fast. On unsteady feet that turn out at haphazard angles, Sakura fights off Hidan's slack hold, kicking at (and missing) his hand that tries to make a grab for her ankle to pull her back down.

"I'm done playing games," Sakura says, proud that she had controlled her slur even at the cost of losing some of the force behind her words.

"Who says you get to fucking decide when you're done, bitch?" Hidan smirks at her, reaching out to make another grab. Sakura jumps back out of reach, nearly losing her balance as she trips over Tobi's vacated seat cushion.

Kisame chuckles, "Let her go, Hidan. She's been a good sport and outlasted Deidara."

Sakura decides maybe Kisame isn't completely evil after all and makes her leave, noticing that Kakuzu had done the same at some point in the night's festivities. His desk lamp had been clicked off and all of his business materials had been taken with him, not leaving a trace of his activities.

Sakura prances out into the hallway which is markedly darker than the room she had just left. Closing the shoji door behind her and cutting off the warm, inviting glow of the lanterns, she turns left, skipping down the hall and enjoying the use of her legs after sitting for so long. She's wobbly on her feet and brushes from one side of the hall to the other, but can't tamp down the bubbly laughter that leaves her throat. Even while she runs and spins gracelessly around corners, Sakura realizes her actions are foolish and she'd smack herself in the head come morning. But for right now, she can't bring herself to care.

_I'm alive. I've been Akatsuki's prisoner for weeks and I'm alive!_

The revelation makes her giddy with excitement.

But that wave of glee comes crashing to a screeching halt as she barely keeps from smacking her face into a wall.

Dead end.

Sakura groans out loud in frustration and turns around. She had wanted to leave her fellow drinking partners so badly, she hadn't spared a single thought as to how she would find her way back to her room. Determined to find her own way back, Sakura tries to effect a calm façade and lightly hums to herself, the melody being disrupted every so often by a light hiccup. Taking her time, Sakura studies the hallways for signs of familiarity, but doesn't come across any with the telltale forking branch at one end.

_Great. I'm going to end up sleeping in the hallway._

There's no way she's about to barge into some unknown room. Who knows what she might find. Or who. A shudder ripples down her spin at the memory of Sasori's workroom she had unintentionally stumbled upon.

Trailing a hand along the wall at her left, Sakura is tempted to sit down and rest for a moment. Her momentary high at finding herself unfettered from the Akatsuki's side had subsided and she's now beginning to notice just how dizzy she really feels. Her stomach heaves and Sakura struggles to keep the bile down. Leaning forward and resting her hands on her knees, Sakura concentrates on her breathing, feeling her body rock on her heels.

That's when something pins her body against the wall.

Sakura shrieks in terror, having not heard nor seen her attacker's approach. Two large hands hold her shoulders back against the wall, the person's body uncomfortably leaning into her own. Sakura stares into her aggressor's face, straining her eyes to make out his features in the low lighting. Why, exactly, did the Akatsuki not invest in adequate hallway lights?

A little voice niggles in her head that they probably _want_ her to get lost in this maze; like a game of hide-and-seek.

Wide-open, violet eyes heatedly stare back at her.

"Hidan," Sakura hisses the name like a curse, struggling in his hold. She wraps her hands around his wrists, trying to pull them off. Hidan merely presses his hips against hers and moves his feet to the inside of her own, slowly drawing her legs apart.

"The one and only, babe," he confirms arrogantly.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Sakura digs her nails into the more delicate skin on the underside of his wrists.

Hidan's smile tightens at the slight prickle of pain and he returns the gesture, his fingers digging uncomfortably into her bare shoulders.

"You fucking left me with those heathens. I had no reason to stick around. Not when you happened to be wandering around so close to my room."

Sakura's eyes widen in alarm at the admission. To think she had skipped right into the Jashinist's territory without being aware of it. Honestly, she had half expected there to be smears of blood leading up to whatever hell pit Hidan holed himself up in.

The walls are surprisingly blank.

"Look, I just want to go back to my room and go to sleep," Sakura tries to appeal to him, adopting a civil tone.

A cackle starts low and deep in Hidan's throat before her ears are assaulted by a flow blown laugh, and Sakura's heart is gripped with pure, unbridled fear at the sound. Hidan's hips move against her own and Sakura inhales a sharp breath, freezing against him. Sakura has no experience in these matters, but even she recognizes a man's unbidden desire when she _feels_ it.

_Shit! No way. This can't happen._

Trembling against him, she brings her arms up between their bumping chests, trying to create some space.

"I don't think you fucking understand the situation here, bitch. You're not the one calling the shots. If I want to kill you, I'll slit your pretty throat and make it rain blood all over this damned place. If I want you down on your knees, you'll fucking please me," Hidan runs his tongue over his lips and Sakura can't tear her eyes away from the action. Never had she been so scared for herself in this way.

The clink of metal catches her attention and Hidan brings a kunai up to the side of her face, its tip just skimming the corner of her right eye. The corners of Hidan's smirk hitch up higher as he watches Sakura's pupils dilate even further.

"All I need is a small taste and then you're going to be in for a fucking hell of a time," Hidan's warm breath fans across her face. Sakura shivers in response, her voice lost in a tangled mess clogging her throat so that she can't even bring herself to scream.

Sakura closes her eyes, the hot prickling sensation telling her tears are only a blink away.

"Heh," Hidan sounds amused, dragging the tip along the side of her face, not yet applying enough pressure to make an incision.

"Hidan," a voice says.

Sakura's eyes open in recognition of the voice that didn't need volume to sound so commanding or intimidating.

A pale hand encircles Hidan's wrist, stilling the hand holding the kunai. Sakura stares uncomprehendingly.

"That is enough, Hidan. You have made a fool of yourself. I am taking the kunoichi with me; I trust that you will not do something so unwise as to interfere."

Sakura looks to her right where, sure enough, Itachi's swirling Sharingan eyes gleam through the shadows of the hallway.

"Che. Bastard. Why -?" Hidan's petulant voice is cut off by the horrible sound of snapping bone. He erupts in a string of curses and yelps, dropping his kunai to the floor and backing away to cradle his throbbing wrist.

Itachi then turns to Sakura and simply says, "Come."

Sparing a weary glance over her shoulder at the furious Jashinist, Sakura doesn't dare to pick up the dropped kunai like last time. Ignoring the temptation, she turns to follow lest she lose Itachi in the shadows and be left with the raging monster behind her.

Without another word, Itachi leads her through a series of turns before they arrive outside a door that he holds open for her, beckoning her in. Sakura gulps and sets foot inside the darkened room. A second later, the lights flick on and Sakura can't help but fear she's walked right into the lion's den.

This is obviously Itachi's own room.

At least, that is what she is left to assume. The room has very little in the way of personal effects or any signs that the dwellings are meant to be a place of comfort and privacy. The bedroom looks very much like the one she had taken to calling her own, with just a few more pieces of furniture to make it look slightly more lived in. The bed had been pushed into a back corner and had been scrupulously made with a dark navy comforter tucked in crisp folds on the ends. Sakura spots a dresser with a few books piled on top and there's a writing desk off to one side. The only sign that this space belongs to the Uchiha at her side is the shirt draped over the back of the chair pushed in properly at the desk. The Uchiha crest meets her eye.

"Thank you," Sakura mumbles softly, not daring to meet the eyes of the man beside her. She's too confused over his intentions. He had saved her…

_But for what purpose?_

Itachi doesn't comment and instead turns his desk chair around to take a seat. He motions for Sakura to do the same, pointing to his made bed. Sakura is reluctant to sit on the perfectly made bed, but does so anyway, straightening her back and trying to at least appear focused and alert despite the fact that she can barely keep her eyes open.

_I will never love drinking the way Tsunade-shishou does._

After a moment's silence, in which Itachi studies Sakura with a critical eye, he speaks up, making Sakura's tense body flinch involuntarily, "Do you realize the full extent of the situation you were in, kunoichi?"

Underneath his calm tone and passive expression, Sakura believes she detects…What? Irritation? Anger?

"You are in a precarious situation…Yet your actions stack the odds against you even further. Are you self-destructive, Sakura?" he clasps his hands atop his crossed knee, looking at Sakura pointedly.

"H-Hey now, I didn't want to – to drink – I was forced to do that. It was some stupid game Deidara dragged me into with Kisame and Hidan. They weren't going to just let me decline and go about my merry way!" Sakura tries to defend herself, fighting through the thick fog in her head.

_Why do I feel like I just got caught drinking by my parents?_

Itachi's eyes narrow, watching the way the girl's fingers dig into the edge of the mattress for balance as she sways dangerously forward.

"Even so, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable to the situation in the first place," Itachi counters, "You left yourself open to the situation by refusing to stick close to those who would have prevented it."

Sakura cocks her head to the side, her temper flaring at Itachi's words. Who was he? Mr. Logical? Furrowing her brows, she asks, "Whaddaya mean?"

Itachi merely raises an eyebrow at her unintended slur.

"I've been 'vulnerable' before I even got here! Remember these?" Sakura holds up her hands with the chakra suppressors, "And who here would have stepped in and 'prevented it'?" Sakura mocks, her tone cross.

"You left yourself open to this by being by yourself. Do you think Sasori-san, or even I, would have allowed you to be dragged into something so reckless? It is dangerous for all parties involved, but especially for you, as you mentioned you have no chakra to help protect yourself with."

Sakura rears back at the suggestion, "You think I'm going to purposely spend time around that creep? And for my own safety?" Sakura laughs humorlessly, "That's a laugh."

She thinks Itachi shrugs, but the motion is hard to detect beneath the Akatsuki cloak, "At the very least, you should know by now that your health is a prime concern of his. I would think someone as intelligent as you would use that to your advantage here, no matter how slight it may be."

Sakura considers it in silence so Itachi presses, "And as for the incident with Hidan? What would you have done had I not intervened?"

Sakura's eyes widen, just imagining what would have surely happened had the Uchiha not come in time. The images are not pretty and Sakura's jaw trembles.

Overcome with the stress she had endured that night (and the stress that had been accumulating for quite some time now), Sakura's head sags forward, her bangs falling into her eyes.

"I don't know," she whispers quietly, clenching her fists in hatred of that tiny, fearful voice.

Itachi exhales silently, the tension surrounding his eyes lessening though Sakura doesn't see it. Deciding the young girl had been put through enough for the day, Itachi stands up. Sakura looks up at the swooshing sound of heavy fabric. Itachi had removed his cloak, leaving him in the casual shinobi garb she had found him wearing the day she came across him playing the shamisen. Walking over to the dresser, he picks up the first book on the stack and reclaims his seat, settling down with his legs propped up on his desk. It's such an odd, _casual _position to see a renowned and sophisticated criminal like Itachi Uchiha in that Sakura regards him a bit confusedly.

"Get some sleep. You are staying here for the night, Sakura."

Sakura opens her mouth to protest, but has to stifle a powerful yawn.

_It's not like I'll ever find my way back to my own bed. He's not about to show me the way._

Slowly, Sakura kicks off her slippers and lifts her legs onto the bed before lying down on her side. When her head hits something soft and cushiony, Sakura stiffens at the horrible thought that this is the same pillow Itachi's own head had used for countless nights of slumber.

_What do mass murderers dream of?_

Sakura staves off the sleep tugging down her eyelids bit by bit. She watches as Itachi, turned away from her at a slight angle, opens the cover of his book to start reading.

She falls asleep before he turns the first page.

* * *

When Sakura wakes up, the first thought to enter her head is that she just had one of the most peaceful nights of sleep she had had in a long time. There had been no dreams and certainly no unwanted, shadowy specters haunting childhood playgrounds. Just black nothingness.

Sakura rubs her face against her arms crossed over the oh-so soft pillow under her head. She had never noticed how soft it was before, and she certainly couldn't recall the pleasant scent of the pillowcase.

Sakura buries her nose into it.

_It's like…the forest after it rains._

Sakura's eyelashes flutter and her eyes crack open just the slightest bit to take in her room.

Only it isn't her room. The walls are bathed in a cold, dim light coming from a small window above the desk on the other side of the room.

_I don't have a desk. And I certainly don't have a window…Where am I?_

Sakura looks down at the blanket tucked around her shoulders, knowing that her own bed is done in all white, Sasori's in black, and Deidara's in a much lighter shade of blue than this deep navy.

_Whose room could I possibly be in?_

Last night's events start trickling through her memory:

Deidara tackling her to the floor.

Being forced to play that ridiculous game until she drank so much she couldn't see straight.

Running through the hallways, utterly lost.

Hidan pinning her to the wall with that hungry look in his eyes.

_Oh Kami, not Hidan. Please don't let this be Hidan's room._

With growing trepidation, she realizes the warm object against her back is moving. Breathing. Sakura knows the only way to confirm or disprove her fears is to roll over and face the monster. She only prays she won't be eaten alive.

_As Shikamaru would say, "This is troublesome!" Kami, am I still drunk?_

A small groan escapes her mouth as she rolls over and lifts her face up from the pillow to meet a pair of cold, hard, _red _eyes.

Sakura makes a small squeak of surprise and nearly tumbles over the side of the bed, but is saved by an arm reaching out to snag the blanket clutched tightly between her hands. Pulling her back up, Itachi's stoic expression is thawed by something like amusement. Blushing at her reaction and close proximity with the man whose bed she had apparently shared, Sakura eyes him wearily. She takes note of the fact that Itachi must have grabbed a blanket from somewhere and covered her with it while she remained blissfully unaware, leaving himself with nothing as he slept on top of the covers. A small part of her is touched by this generosity, but she doesn't allow herself to dwell on it.

"You have slept in quite late. How do you feel?" Itachi asks considerately.

Sakura considers for a moment then replies, "I'm fine, just a little headache."

_Which comes as no surprise._

Actually, her head is pulsing with pain in time to the beat of her heart, and Sakura just wants to fall back asleep to escape it. She would have tried it, too, but Itachi does something to completely startle all sleepy thoughts out of her head.

Itachi leans forward to plant a soft, feather-light kiss on her forehead.

It is a gesture that implies affection, yet everything she had ever been told about Itachi Uchiha told her he was supposed to be too cold for such a gesture to hold any sincerity.

_But…his lips felt warm. Soft, even._

Sakura blushes at this admittance.

_Who are you when no one is looking, Itachi Uchiha? _

* * *

Later that day, after she had scrubbed the now stomach-churning scent of alcohol from her skin, Sakura rouses from her nap at the sound of her door opening. Unannounced, as per usual, Sasori steps forth and, without preamble, informs Sakura of some very startling news.

The Akatsuki leader had requested a meeting with her.

_And by "requested" he means "ordered."_

Sakura is overcome with nerves as Sasori takes the brush from her nightstand and runs it through her mussed hair. She sits there, too numb to bat away his fussing hands. After a moment of prep work, Sasori makes a sound of approval at her appearance and, when she continues to sit there limply with no indication of moving anytime soon, he applies his chakra threads to stand her up.

"Walk, little girl, or I will do it for you."

Impatience tinges his calm tone so Sakura quits dallying. It is an odd occurrence for him to give her the freedom to move on her own.

She follows him, too dazed to really pay attention to the number of turns they take. She wonders if the effects of last night's alcohol still linger in her system, or if she is truly just too terrified to think straight. Nevertheless, she isn't too far out of it to not recall where she has seen such impressive, ornamented doors before.

They are the same ones she had dashed by during her escape attempt from Kisame and Itachi. The foul-tempered beasts stare back at her with intimidating golden eyes, their mouths drawn back in hideous snarls. Their resemblance to the tailed beasts doesn't escape her.

Sasori gives two sharp, concise raps on the door with his knuckles and the pair is promptly greeted with the not so welcoming face of a blue-haired woman with cold, amber eyes.

_A woman in the Akatsuki? This is definitely something for the files back home._

Sakura catches a glimpse of a paper flower nestled in her hair before the woman draws back the door to allow Sasori and Sakura to enter. As soon as they are inside, she sweeps out of the room as silently as an assassin. Sakura figures she probably is one.

"Leader-sama," Sasori dips forward in a shallow bow although Sakura can't see the person for whom the gesture is meant for.

Turning back to face her, his hand wraps around her forearm and Sakura is shocked to see just a hint of the anxiety she is feeling reflected within the puppet master's eyes.

_That isn't encouraging._

"Do _not_ do anything _stupid_, little girl," Sasori whispers brusquely into her ear, tightening his grip on her arm before releasing her completely. With that warning to bear in mind, Sakura hardly hears the heavy thud of the ornamented doors closing behind her. Fear buzzes through her thoughts and she can feel her stomach doing pretzel twists.

_I'm alone with the leader of the Akatsuki…!_

It's all Sakura can do to contain the hysterical little bubble of laughter that rises in her throat. Surely, she wouldn't survive this meeting.

"Sakura Haruno," a voice speaks up, somewhere off to Sakura's right. Her eyes strain, not yet adjusted to the dim candlelight glowing from the sconces along the walls.

Sakura's ears strain to catch every syllable and inflection, trying to match it to the voices stored in her memory from a time she is less than proud of. But his is difficult to place. To describe the quality of his voice would be like trying to describe the taste of water – a daunting, confusing task. The only word she can settle on to describe it is "aloof," but that isn't very helpful. Perhaps the leader of the Akatsuki had been too preoccupied with matters much more significant than slowly driving a girl mad.

"I am the leader of the Akatsuki. Please, take a seat," he says politely, but Sakura gets the strong impression that it's more of an order than a hospitable offer.

Complying with his request, Sakura situates herself in the only chair placed on her side of the desk. For whatever reason, the Akatsuki leader had chosen to neglect his own rather comfortable-looking chair in favor of perching on the corner of his elaborately carved desk; the legs of which were masterfully shaped into clawed lion's feet and faces in all sorts of gruesome, twisted expressions stare out at the world from their nestled cocoons among the masterfully carved designs.

With one leg folded underneath him and the other left to dangle over the edge, he cuts a rather imposing figure, completely nonchalant in the presence of Sakura's tangible fear.

Clasping her hands together in her lap, she studies the silhouette of this man who had successfully shrouded himself in mystery. For the most part, his profile still remains a blank page in Konoha's files on the Akatsuki. If she survived this meaning, it would certainly be something to boast about back home.

Her eyes take in the spiked, light auburn hair and trail down the aristocratic slope of his nose, stopping on the small, shiny glints of metal.

_Piercings?_

Almost lazily, his head turns away from the window to her left and pierces Sakura with, perhaps, the most unusual pair of eyes she has ever seen. Nearly hypnotized, she gazes back into their purple ringed depths, almost forgetting her panic for a moment.

"I was informed that you made an attempt to escape several nights ago. Know that future misconduct will be dealt with more harshly. This base is equipped with facilities for prisoners…I would think that you would wish to avoid returning to such conditions," he fixes her with a pointed gaze, his eyebrows arched in expectation of her agreement.

Sakura clenches her hands together tightly, making the tendons stand out along the backs of her hands. Now she recalls his voice.

It hadn't spoken up often, certainly not even half as much as some of the others, but she had heard it. She had recognized the mantle of authority and duty his words bore. He had told her promises of a new world, one in which there wouldn't be pain, but peace. He had demanded her respect.

"Y-Yes, umm –''Sakura's speech comes to a stuttering halt and her eyebrows furrow in mild distress. Really, they didn't give lessons or assigned readings back in her academy days on how one is to address a superior hostile enemy in this type of hostage situation.

"Leader," or even "Sir," would feel like blasphemy on her tongue. Just because he asked for her respect didn't mean she had to refer to him like the rest of his minions did.

Almost looking amused with her struggle, he says, "You may address me as Pain."

Sakura blanches at the name.

She drops her eyes from his unwavering gaze, hoping he'd just turn back to admiring the bleak scenery outside. When she looks up again, his eyes are still trained on her as though observing a very interesting specimen.

"I have been told that you have a good head on your shoulders. It would be in your best interest to cooperate with us to the utmost of your abilities."

Not entirely sure if he had finished speaking, but not really caring, Sakura pipes up, "If you think for one second that I'm going to divulge any of Konoha's military secrets, you're sorely mistaken."

Being Tsunade's apprentice had come with the unintentional bonus of being up-to-date on much of Konoha's inner workings. It was a privilege Sakura had never considered could be used against her.

Pain observes the steel resolve in her words. Loyalty is a trait he could admire, even though hers lies with a competing cause. Taking a moment to let the silence swallow her words, he turns his attention back to the window and Sakura's shoulders relax ever so slightly.

Still looking away from her, he says, "Akatsuki has no need of any information you may possess. Our plans will proceed accordingly without it, so there is no need to fret that you may be placed in a position that requires you to betray –"

"I would never!" Sakura spits furiously before instantly freezing up.

_Did I just shout back at…? I'm SO dead._

Pain turns back to her at the sudden outburst, his cloaked arms crossing in front of his chest although the sleeves are so long that Sakura can't see his hands.

He tips his chin down at her, his expression stern and composed, "Your loyalty to your village is admirable, kunoichi. But as I said, it is a moot point. Further inside information on your village is not needed."

Sakura isn't sure what to make of this admission. On the plus side, she wouldn't be tortured to reveal any of Konoha's secrets. Yet, it was worrisome to hear how confidently this…_Pain_ spoke. It was as though he already knew every last drop of information needed for what he was planning against Konoha.

_And just what are those plans?_

Of course Sakura already knew Naruto had been in the crosshairs of the Akatsuki for quite some time, but the way the leader talked…it sounded like they had something planned for the village as well.

Sakura clamps her hands between her knees to conceal their shaking. Could he be alluding to an invasion of Konoha? Now more than ever, Sakura desperately just wants to lose control and go screaming and smashing her way out of here.

_I have to get back home and warn everyone!_

But to act on those desires would be a Naruto-stupid move and she didn't have his resilience. She'd be killed.

"You want very badly to return home; I can see that. I, too, love my home with the same intensity. I want to protect it and keep its people safe. They have suffered for a long time from the cruelties of this unfair world," Pain's eyes shine with an intensity that Sakura is familiar with: cold determination.

"I have looked up many a time at the sky and asked whatever god there may be for some kind of sign… A sign that would tell me that we have not been forsaken to squander in the filth of human depravity. Do you know what reply I got back?"

Sakura knows the question is rhetorical. Her wide eyes and troubled expression is answer enough for him to continue.

"Nothing. The sky would be empty if it wasn't for the rain."

Sakura notes the corners of his mouth that are barely quirked up into some semblance of an ironic smile, but his eyes are dead and humorless.

_There is nothing left of the world in those eyes._

"I do not expect a child of Konoha to understand what true pain is," his voice intones, but Sakura can pick up on the bitterness underlying the mention of her village, "But only through pain can peace finally be achieved. I will be the god to bring this world to its maturity through pain."

He turns away from Sakura for a moment (who realizes she's been holding her breath since he first began talking about the sky) to observe the rain. Through the persistent downpour and waning light of day, Sakura can make out very little. In the distance stands the gray, blurry figures of what she assumes to be a cluster of buildings, and Sakura puzzles over the scenery. She had assumed that if she truly had been taken to the Akatsuki's main headquarters it would be somewhere severely isolated from any outside contact.

"Stand up," he says in a voice that broaches no argument. Sakura senses this is a man unaccustomed to being denied and wisely obeys his orders.

The leader of the Akatsuki soundlessly slips off the edge of his desk and Sakura locks her knees in place to prevent them from buckling with fear as the man approaches her. Curiously, he reaches up to the back of his head and Sakura watches with uncertainty as his arms work at something.

Having untied the knot in the cloth of his forehead protector, the leader of the Akatsuki advances with confidents strides, each end of the cloth band held tightly between his hands. The weak glow of the candlelight sharply reflects off the metal plate, highlighting the deep gash across its surface like an ugly scar. Sakura stiffens as he circles behind her and startles when a curtain of darkness drops over her vision. The coolness of the weighted metal plate seeps through the fabric and Sakura's eyelids flutter at the sensation. She can see nothing.

Sakura feels a gentle tug at her elbow and is prompted to step away from her chair. For a moment, a wave of dizziness rushes straight to her head after having sat down for so long.

_The fact that I can't see certainly isn't helping._

But before Sakura can worry too much about toppling over, she is carefully guided forward by a steady hand on the small of her back. Her guide momentarily removes his hand to place both on her hips and a tiny sound of surprise escapes Sakura as she is lifted up. But her feet make contact with concrete ground an instant later and a gust of wind whips her hair back from her face. Nervously, she walks up a shallow incline at the prompting of the guiding hand on her back. As the ground levels out again, a hand on her shoulder stills her in place and she cocks her head back as if she could see through her makeshift blindfold and right into the weeping heavens.

The rain is warm on her skin and data memorized from her academy days comes flying back to her; information on average annual rainfall and climate that would prove useful for any shinobi needing to pack gear for a wide range of elements.

_Where am I?_

Glumly, she thinks to herself that it wouldn't even matter if she knew her location right down to the exact latitude and longitude. If she never makes it back home, all the information she had been gathering since her abduction would prove to be a wasted effort. The rain travels down her cheeks in the place of the tears she had stoutly been denying herself to shed in the presence of the Akatsuki.

"Sakura, I wish to rid this world of its hatred and its wars, and maybe when it's cleansed, you will see how beautiful the world can be in the absence of shinobi."

Sakura tries to imagine it.

_A world without shinobi. No wars or enemies. No more debilitating injuries to leave a strong body crippled. No more trauma victims from memories they have to relive over and over. No gruesome deaths or funerals for lives cut too short. _

_Sure, it sounds perfect, but how can that be guaranteed? Shinobi are the necessary line of defense between the innocent and the evil. How can you promise that your peace will last indefinitely?_

Even without her chakra, she can sense the man's close proximity as he stands behind her. Still, it doesn't prepare her for when she suddenly feels both of her hands in each of his. Her arms are lifted high over her head as if to reach for the sky she couldn't see. Warm droplets of rain splatter against her open palms and run in rivulets down the length of her arms.

_Ame! Would the Akatsuki choose to make their headquarters in an actual village? And if that village is actually cooperating with them...there could be severe consequences for the rest of the hidden villages. All this rain could just be a coincidence…_

But Sakura didn't really think that. Already, she could count several times when it had been raining during her time with the Akatsuki: just before Sasori rendered her unconscious during her abduction, while she was sparring with Kisame, and a few other times in the tea room she had heard the patter of rain against the warped window.

And right now….

_At the very least, the chance that I'm somewhere in the Land of Rain is pretty good._

But she can't ponder over her moment of insight for very long.

With his fingers intertwined in hers, he speaks softly, "And then, when the world finally knows peace, perhaps the skies over this land will stop their incessant weeping and its people can walk in the light."

With her hands held up to the heavens, the rain stops.

* * *

_This time around, Sakura knows she is in a dream as soon as she opens her eyes on the world before her._

"_Konoha Hospital. You're getting predictable," Sakura calls out to the empty air. Standing in the front lobby, she surveys the damage from the explosions; damage that had surely been cleaned up by now in the real world. Files and papers litter the floor and a few chairs from the waiting room next door somehow made it into the front entrance. Sakura carefully picks her way through the mess and cuts a path for the nurse's station. It's in much the same state of disarray. Patient files strewn across the counters, pens on the floor, and one nurse's half-eaten lunch, all suggest how sudden and unexpected the attack had been. Sakura reaches out for the telephone hanging by it its cord over one of the secretary desks. Putting it against her ear, she listens expectantly for a dial tone. Silence greets her on the other line and Sakura rights the phone in its cradle. _

_Moving past the nurse's station, she trudges by overturned gurneys and wheelchairs sitting empty in the hallways, waiting patiently for needy patients. Something is eerie about their assembly and Sakura rubs her arms absentmindedly, feeling watched._

_She follows the mild chaos into the worst of the destruction: the destroyed hospitable wing in which Sakura had fought a team of ROOT members. Just as she remembers it, dust and debris buries the floor in some places and holes in the ceiling (that had given her small glimpses of the blue Konoha sky above during the actual attack) stare back at her black and empty. Posters promoting good health and the benefits of a balanced diet are now just tattered scraps of paper thumb-tacked to the walls. Crutches, covered in soot and bent out of shape, lay abandoned on the ground. They are small enough for a young child._

_Sakura puts a hand to her mouth and hurries past them, ducking under cables hanging from the ceiling. Rubble around her is blackened and indistinguishable. Sakura can only assume much of it had once been hospital equipment. _

_But that's nothing compared to the bodies. _

_She had tried to ignore them at first, and it had been possible, too. The first few she came across were just charred lumps. That hand, it wasn't a hand reaching out for help, it was just a pair of deformed medical tongs. That skinny leg over there, just a burned lamp pole. But the people started looking a lot more like people as she went further along._

_Now, Sakura can't deny the fact that these are human corpses; flesh, bone, and blood._

_She comes across the doctors and nurses she had fought alongside with. They look so real, as if they had just suddenly collapsed from exhaustion. Not knowing what compels her to do so, Sakura kneels down by one of the nurses she had spent many lunch breaks chatting with. The woman is laying face down, her legs crushed by a section of wall that had collapsed. With a little effort, Sakura gently lifts up the woman's upper body, instantly regretting it as she feels something wet slide over her hands. Still, she turns the woman over and chokes on a sob._

_Red._

_All of it. Sticky and dark, the blood pours onto her hands as if the victim had just been slain. Sakura steadfastly keeps her eyes lowered from the face, not wanting to meet the eyes that had once been so full of life._

_Sakura stands up, curling her stained hands into fists and then unfurling them to watch little strings of blood being pulled thin and then snapping to nothingness as she flexes her fingers._

_She runs. _

_Her heart beating frantically, threatening to break free of her ribcage, Sakura's feet slap against the ground. Where she's going, she doesn't know._

_But when she gets there, she does._

_Coming to a stop, she pants lightly and observes the familiar setting. She happens to be in the exact spot she had been in when her eyes had lifted in the middle of her losing battle against the ROOT team and she saw someone passively watching from the demolished hallway branching away from the junction she now stands in. _

_Slowly, she looks up._

_He's waiting for her._

_Just like that day back in Konoha, she finds him leaning one shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed. Even now, the only substantial part of his body is his gleaming, red eyes. Otherwise, he is obscured in shadow, or perhaps he's actually made of shadow just as the man had been in her playground dream._

_Maybe the two entities are one and the same._

"_Who are you?" Sakura takes a brave step forward, squinting in an attempt to see through the darkness._

_Red eyes blink slowly back at her, but the figure says nothing. _

_Anger gives power to Sakura's voice and she barks out, "Why don't you step out of the shadows and face me like a man? You're the one responsible for the attack on Konoha, aren't you? You made the deal with that bastard, Danzo!"_

_When the figure just continues to stare at her, Sakura loses a bit of her steam and continues in a more subdued tone, "And now you're haunting me in my dreams. What is it that you want?"_

_Not expecting him to answer her anymore, her eyes search her surroundings desperately. Sakura doesn't know what she's looking for. _

_An escape, maybe._

_**You**, the shadow speaks up at last._

"_Wh-what?" Sakura asks, dread creeping through her veins. The man had straightened his posture while she hadn't been looking._

_It's hard to tell with her only reference point being a set of eyes (his body blends in perfectly with the darkened hallway), but she thinks the man takes a few steps closer._

_**What I want is you**, his deep voice clarifies as succinctly as possible._

_Sakura swallows hard, willing her heart to dislodge itself from her throat and settle back in its rightful place. _

_Clenching her fists against her sides, Sakura forces herself not to break eye contact, "You still haven't told me who you are."_

_He makes a humming noise, considering her words, **I don't believe you are ready to know that yet.**_

_Sakura is about to tell him she doesn't give a damn about what he believes, but he asks a question that derails Sakura from her train of thought._

_ **How well do you know your village's history, love?**_

_Brushing off the annoying pet name, Sakura's expression turns perplexed, "I…I guess I know it fairly well. The history of Konoha is covered in the academy before students even make genin level."_

_**I would hope your academy**, his voice turns contemptuous, **Would teach you about the village's founding days…Though I suppose the common history texts are written by the victors, no?**_

_Sakura doesn't know what to make of this discussion about her childhood education. She suspects the whole thing may just be a diversion to keep her from pressing him for his identity. Ignoring his comment, she pipes up, "You have the Sharingan. There are only two people in the world that should possess that power, yet you are clearly not Itachi or Sasuke Uchiha," her eyes narrow, "So who are you?"_

_**You are correct in that I am neither Itachi nor Sasuke Uchiha**, the voice chuckles, **But you should not be so quick to accept hearsay. You say there are only two people in the world that possess these eyes, yet here I am before you, proof to the contrary.**_

_Sakura glares back at him._

_**Oh dear**, the man says, his tone mockingly dismayed, **It seems I've upset you.** _

_At Sakura's continued silence, the man lets out a heavy sigh, **Well, love, I'm afraid our time together has run out. You took much too long in finding me**, he chastises, **Try to be more punctual next time.**_

_With that, the figure morphs into a much less distinctive form, becoming truly phantom-like. The shadowy mass finally ventures out of the protection of the darkened hallway and flies straight for Sakura._

_Her eyes widen at the brief touch of cold lips against her skin. _

_Exactly where Itachi had kissed her._

* * *

**Author's Note: The main driving force behind this chapter was a very strong image in my head of Pain and Sakura standing out on the tongue of that strange, metal sculpture-like building Pain has sometimes been seen on in the actual series. I could just picture them there in the rain with Pain standing behind her and their arms raised to the sky. Of course he would make the rain stop for her as a show of his god-like power ;) As for the drinking game the Akatsuki played with Sakura, that's an actual game called Boxing. Anyway, things are heating up and the end is drawing ever closer. More than likely, there will only be a couple more chapters. With that being said, I can't promise that the story will be updated quickly. I had hoped to wrap this up before leaving for school, but it doesn't look like that'll happen. But I will not be leaving this story unfinished, I can promise you that.**

**Now to answer some of the questions from the reviews…I didn't have a specific age in mind for Sakura when I started this, but I imagine her to be somewhere in the range of 16-18. To clear up any confusion over Tobi/Madara, I've chosen to use both characters in this story and they are one and the same person. However, this is meant to be the true Madara Uchiha acting as Tobi, not some unknown masked man impersonating Madara. And finally, I got some constructive criticism in the reviews! Please, do not be shy about it. As much as I love completely positive feedback (and it really does put a smile on my face), I appreciate suggestions on how to improve my writing. I'm a total amateur and this has been good practice for me. To clarify, I do switch between past and present tense quite a bit; some of it is done to save the story from being broken into numerous little tidbits of italicized flashbacks (which can get confusing since I put Sakura's dreams and thoughts in italics as well), but oftentimes it is done unintentionally. Perhaps, when this story is completed, I will go back and edit everything so it's not as distracting. As for the particularly long chapters, I realize they are quite a bit longer than what's considered average. Mostly, I just wanted to keep the length consistent with that of the first chapter which was written without any certainty that the story would be continued. **

**I hope this chapter was enjoyable to read. I've never tried writing Pain's character before so it may be entirely off the mark. As for Itachi, I'm sure some of you have started to guess what I've intended for his character. It's kind of weird, but I never really cared for him much, just appreciated him as an interesting villain that added some depth to the plot of the series. Then, when Kishimoto decided to reveal the truth about Itachi, I had a complete change of heart.**

**Song for inspiration: "Built for Sin" by Framing Hanley.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto. **

**Rated M: Due to coarse language, violence, and some adult themes.**

* * *

This time, Sakura doesn't startle at the touch of hands on her hips as her feet briefly lift off the ground against her own accord. Despite the makeshift blindfold shrouding her vision, she can feel the proximity of her company on her right as though he had strung an electrical current between their bodies. Her skin tingles at the prominent threat of this man's mere presence, and Sakura does her best to silently swallow her fear. Halting her cautious, _blind_ procession forward with a large hand weighing lightly on her shoulder, the man saves Sakura from walking into empty air, just as the toe of her boot steps over the edge of the walkway. It takes all of her self-control to calm her fluttering heart. With her heartbeat pulsing loudly in her ears, Sakura exhales a steadying breath, wondering just how far down the drop would take her.

Would it be lethal?

Would it lead her to freedom?

But, she mentally shakes her head, discarding any foolhardy thoughts of escaping from the Akatsuki leader of all people.

_Ridiculous._

"Sit."

Sakura inwardly grumbles to herself. It's a simple command, but the loss of her vision and her lack of chakra hinders her sense of balance. Exactly where was he directing her to sit anyway?

Gingerly, she lowers herself to the ground beneath her feet, feeling the bumpy texture of rough cement beneath her palms. Feeling awkward and ungraceful, she lets her bottom drop to the ledge and experimentally stretches out her legs. They don't have much "ground" to rest on. From about her knees and beyond, her legs stretch out into empty space, a black void as far as Sakura is concerned. Carefully, Sakura scoots closer to the edge to allow her legs to comfortably swing in the air. Without any clue as to how much ledge she has on either side of her to separate her from a potential death plummet, Sakura keeps her hands firmly pressed to the concrete on either side.

She can't see him, but the image of that pierced, yet regal face of Pain (a name that still tastes bitter on her tongue) stands out prominently in her mind's eye and she can't help but feel clumsy and inferior next to him. He's probably inwardly laughing at her nervousness right now.

Sakura feels the slight _whoosh_ of air against her damp skin – no surprise, it's raining again – and realizes that Pain has taken a seat next to her as though it's the most commonplace thing in the world for kidnapper and kidnappee to be companionably sitting together in the rain. What could he possibly wish to glean from this little encounter?

Sakura can't even begin to guess the motives for this man's interest in her, or any of the Akatsuki's, really. Sasori, perhaps, makes sense to some degree. With him, it's a simple matter of claiming revenge upon the girl that "defeated" him.

But the others?

"Do you think of us as evil, Sakura?"

Startled out of her reverie, Sakura's head jerks to the right, but her dubious expression is partly concealed by the man's hitai-ate. Did he really just ask her that? Hadn't she made her opinions of the Akatsuki quite clear?

She inclines her head toward him at an angle in consideration of the question. To speak freely and without any reserve would surely incense him to strike back. She's actually grateful that the blindfold shields her eyes from his; not being able to see his face gives her a little more confidence when speaking to him.

"What I think of the Akatsuki is insignificant, isn't it? It won't change the fact that I'm your prisoner, thus I see little point in sharing my thoughts," Sakura answers diplomatically. Proud that she hadn't shouted her outrage at the Akatsuki in the face of the very man who directed them, Sakura kicks out her legs into empty air, just as she had done when she was little and sitting in a chair much too tall for her.

"Do not fret that your answer will invoke punishment. You may speak freely here," Pain's monotone voice resonates pleasantly in her ears. Patiently, he waits for her true answer, and Sakura finally decides to break the silence.

Scratching her nails lightly against the cement, Sakura attempts to temper her hostility as much as she can.

"I'm sure you can guess that I don't hold your organization in high esteem. You wish to capture the jinchuriki, and that includes one of my closest friends and teammate. I don't understand how peace can be achieved through such violent means. I don't understand how you can justify it. I don't understand how a group of criminals can be in this business for the benefit of others," Sakura inhales deeply, letting her shoulders hunch up and then go lax, "I simply don't understand."

"But you want to," he says softly, and although Sakura hadn't given the matter much thought, she decides that he is right.

"I can see the good in you, kunoichi. It's not something one comes across very often in our line of work because it is dangerous on the battlefield, so it stands out. And I don't say this simply because you have chosen to pursue the path of a medical specialist, although that certainly reflects on your character. But no, I think that even if you weren't a medic, you would go out of your way to ensure the safety and protection of your village, and it would be for more than some vague idea of honor and duty."

Sakura lowers her face, staring into a lap she can't see. Wet tendrils of hair stick to the sides of her cheeks and neck. How does she respond to the enemy complimenting her integrity?

Luckily, she is spared the ordeal of inadequate speech and Pain continues, "I'm sure you are familiar with the phrase, "the ends justify the means". You should know that I only take calculated risks; Akatsuki's plans are based on the perceived notion that the end pay-off will be worth the sacrifices made, as regrettable as some of them may be. And it _is_ regrettable that some lives must be lost for the good of humanity, but a few are inconsequential to the whole."

Sakura bites out a hiss of air, her short fuse lit and dangerously sparking. Lives, even a few, even one, are something that Sakura has vowed to save even before she took the medic's oath. This man regards lives with cold, rational logic that simply isn't compatible in real-life scenarios with people and all of their emotions and special exceptions. How can you point at one person and judge them to be disposable for the sake of everyone else?

"Well," Sakura says, her voice low and strained as she attempts to mask her rage, "One of those people you deem to be worth sacrificing is named Naruto Uzumaki. He may not seem very capable at first," Sakura chuckles nostalgically to herself, "But he's got the biggest heart and more tenacity than I've ever seen. If he says he's going to do something, he'll do it. That's how he succeeds. People are worried for him because you Akatsuki are hunting him down, but he says he's not going to let that happen."

Sakura raises her head, approximating where her companion's gaze should be and says with conviction, "So, I'd be more worried for _you_. He's already said he's going to defeat you, Akatsuki."

Pain blinks slowly, stunned by the young girl's confident declaration. Sakura had been a tightly wound bundle of nerves the few times he had sought out her company, but when speaking of the Kyuubi vessel, she is all conviction. Could this boy actually be a force to be reckoned with? If Sakura, who seems to be quite close to him, thinks so highly of his abilities, then he may have to reevaluate his course of action. Konoha's jinchuriki had somehow found a place in his village. More importantly, he must have found a place in this girl's heart.

'How regrettable,' Pain thinks to himself. It would seem to be impossible to convince Sakura that Akatsuki's intentions are misunderstood. All she would be able to accept is the fact that her friend's life would be forfeit as soon as Akatsuki caught up to him. Still, something inside him urges him to reach out again, to make a connection with this girl who only wants to do what's right.

'That's the problem with right and wrong. It's all merely perception. No wonder people can't agree and find peace with one another.'

"I admire a worthy opponent," Pain allows, "And it is reassuring to know that even one so young as you can appreciate what you have while you have it, knowing that very little is guaranteed in life. Tell me, have you lost someone?"

Sakura shifts uncomfortably, partly from the annoying rain dampening her clothes and partly from the sudden change in topic to something decidedly more tangible and private. Still, figuring she has little to gain from lying to this man who is surprisingly well-mannered (at least for now), Sakura settles for the truth, as briefly as she can explain it.

"Lost…yes. I've lost someone," Sakura murmurs, brushing away the bangs plastered to her forehead, "I think that's to be expected of most shinobi. But, I still have a chance to get that person back. See, he's not dead, he's just…lost. So, I'm glad to have the chance to make things right. Some people don't get that chance."

Despite her ambiguity and unwillingness to name the person, Pain is fairly certain Sakura means her old genin teammate, the youngest Uchiha. Being at the helm of the project to capture all of the jinchuriki had given him the tedious task of poring over countless intelligence reports gathered by his constituents. He had learned more about the Kyuubi vessel (and subsequently, the people closest to him) than Sakura would probably be comfortable with knowing.

"I suppose there are varying degrees of losing someone. But you are fortunate that your loss is not yet permanent. That is something to envy. I have lost many people dear to me and have no way of getting them back."

For a moment, only the pitter-patter of rain responds to the man's admission. Sakura draws her legs in, clasping her bare arms around them, not just for the warmth but for comfort as well.

_I can't take much more. I don't want to hear any more of this talk._

Sakura, feeling incredibly child-like and insignificant in the shadow of this god-like figure, can only bury her rain-soaked face into her knees. She doesn't want to keep talking to her enemy about the finer points of man's atrocities and self-destructive behavior. To do so would only dredge up the nausea-inducing worry she had been struggling to tame for the past few years: that she has been living a life of gross contradiction.

Shinobi and medic. Destroyer and healer. Right and wrong. Good and bad.

Such thoughts would lead anyone into a dizzying headache of circuitous thought. In the end, all Sakura knows is that she can remember looking out the classroom window from her academy days and seeing civilian parents walking their children to the nearby playground. She had felt superior to those kids chasing after each other in an ungraceful game of tag, or yanking on the hem of their mother's dress to call attention to their scraped knees from an unfortunate tumble off the slide (as if their wailing wasn't any indication). She had watched them with contempt, deeming them irresponsible and childish. She was doing something important. She was training. She was going to be somebody.

But now?

Sitting captive on the ledge of some god-forsaken place by some god-forsaken shinobi who could do anything he pleased with her, she isn't so sure she would have minded if she had spent a little more time out in the fields picking flowers like other little girls, or even playing on the swings with those civilian children.

_Right now…it sounds perfect._

Sakura feels warm skin against her cheek and turns her head at the light touch. Though she can't see his eyes, she can feel the Rinnegan piercing her with a scrutinous gaze.

The light tension pulling down the corners of Pain's mouth disappears when she turns towards him. Her silence had put him on edge, uncertain as to what thoughts hid behind her troubled visage. He restrains the impulse to pull down the makeshift blindfold so he can look into those expressive eyes of hers. With eyes like those, she has no need for a voice, though he has to admit he rather enjoys hearing it.

Delicately, he brushes the pad of his thumb across her pale cheek before dropping his hand. Sakura resists the urge to rub her face; his touch had been so light it tickled.

"Pain and solitude have been steady companions throughout most of my life, Sakura. In fact, I can attribute the beginning of it all to shinobi from your village," he pauses momentarily, assessing Sakura's reaction to this information. Though she doesn't say anything, he notes the deepening of her frown as well as her colorless lips.

"But it's not just your village that is the problem I'm working to fix. And while I still hold an aged bitterness over Konoha's past wrongs, I do not believe your village is full of ill-intentioned people," Pain sighs almost soundlessly, "In reality, I do not think there are such things as heroes or villains. There are just people who do good and bad things all in an attempt to do the _right _thing."

_Reality is merely a perception._

Itachi's words from nearly two weeks earlier had somehow inscribed themselves on the back of Sakura's mind. Though said in a different context, they seemed to apply pretty well to the current topic.

Uncertain if she should heed the advice and be looking underneath the underneath for the true intent behind this bronze-haired, pseudo-god's words, Sakura parts her lips, scrambling for some coherent strand of verbal thought.

"How's that not the same thing? Heroes do good and villains do bad; that's how they're distinguished," Sakura asks, wincing at the hollow quality of her tone, as if all of her life energy had been washed away by the rain.

"Do you consider yourself a hero?" Pain throws back.

Sakura can almost discern the marginal increase of enthusiasm in his voice (and it is marginal in that powerful but calm baritone voice), and feels like she has just unwillingly entered a Socratic debate.

"No, of course not. I'm no hero," Sakura dismisses quickly, as if the very idea is too absurd to contemplate. When Sakura thinks of heroes, she pictures Tsunade saving lives out on the middle of a battle ground where she's completely exposed, but too stubborn to let one of her own die without trying to help. She pictures Kakashi jumping in front of her and her two genin teammates when they were fresh out of the academy, deflecting a lethal blow from Zabuza Momochi. She pictures Chiyo-baasama admitting the faults of her life-long prejudices and giving her own life to save that of a boy she had wronged. She pictures mischievous blue eyes, blonde hair, and a bright smile – she pictures Naruto standing atop the Hokage Mountain, looking over the entire village he had vowed to protect even before it accepted him as one of its own.

Sakura grew up in the shadows of heroes, so she knows what one looks like.

But never had she considered counting herself among their ranks.

Pain presses the issue, "But why not? You're a kunoichi who risks her life for her village; most of which won't ever truly know what you have sacrificed to be the best you can be at your profession. You defend the weak and heal the injured. You don't ask for much in return – just a paycheck to get by on so you can keep doing your job over and over again. Is that not noble? Is that not heroic?"

Flustered, Sakura wrings her hands together, trying to buy time to collect her thoughts.

"I – I'm just doing my job. I'm a shinobi because I want to be one. But I'm not heroic. I try to save lives, but I'd never be half as successful without the support of all the talented people on my team. And I'm still weak. I'm still afraid sometimes when I know I'm fighting an opponent stronger than me, so…I'm not a hero by any means," Sakura trails off quietly.

"So, by your own assessment, you do good things, yet you're not a hero. I believe I said this is how things work. Heroes, like villains, are a mere concept in order for people to mould the wills of others to see as they do. To create the division between a 'them' and an 'us' can be a useful tool in politics. It's been that way since the beginning of civilization."

"But what if you're wrong?" Sakura asks, her competiveness in debate finally peeking through as she sightlessly leans toward her opponent as though to coax out the answer she wants to hear from him.

Pain crosses his arms, and in a flat voice states, "Clarify."

Sakura speaks quickly, "I mean, what if you're going about it the wrong way? You said you wanted peace, but you also said that people do good and bad things in an attempt to do what they think is right," she pauses to take a deep breath, "Well, what if you're going about things the wrong way?"

_You're not a god, no matter what you might like to pretend. You're just as flawed as the rest of us._

"Ah, but in order to make that argument you would have to accept that my intentions are good."

Sakura wants to cross her arms like a contemptuous child and refute that statement, but holds her tongue. Seeing her displeasure in the way her mouth pinches together, Pain reaches out a hand to tuck a mass of now damp hair behind her ear. Sakura nearly goes rigid at the contact. She can still feel the ghost-like path of his thumb sweeping over her cheek bone.

The flicker of a smile plays on the Akatsuki leader's face as he says, "Whatever your take is on the matter of right and wrong, good and bad, I simply meant for you to understand my viewpoint. It may be entirely incongruous to your own, but perhaps you can see some merit in it."

His hand lingers in Sakura's hair just a second longer before she feels the absence of its warmth and comforting weight. Inwardly, Sakura releases a sigh of relief, satisfied that she had come out unscathed from a conversation that could have gone messily awry.

_Politics. What a nasty business._

Silence descends on the couple sitting in the rain, but this time it is one of peace rather than tension. Grumbles resonate through the skies like the sounds from some nasty behemoth's empty stomach. Pain observes a flash of lightning reflect off darkened windows from the surrounding buildings and, a second later, a clap of thunder upsets his companion who twitches at the unexpected noise.

Running a hand through his hair, the man decides to let the sky behave of its own free will this time. Ringed eyes turn to the blindfolded girl sitting anxiously at his side.

"Come, stand up. It's about to get much worse."

Sakura knows he's only commenting on the state of the weather, but something rings true in his words.

Things _are_ about to get much worse. She can feel it in her bones.

Sakura gingerly rises to her feet, a steadying hand on her elbow assuring her that she wouldn't be allowed to tumble over the edge.

Belatedly, Sakura realizes that although she can still hear the tumult of rain beating against pavement, she can't feel its cold sting. At some point, Pain had extended the chakra surrounding his body and essentially enveloped her in a rain-proof shield. Now that she recognizes the truth of this assessment, she can just barely feel the light buzz of his chakra on her skin, almost like static electricity.

To think he would waste his chakra on such a small matter as keeping her dry.

To think…

* * *

Sneezing for what seems like the thousandth time that day, Sakura rubs at her nose with a single knuckle and buries herself deeper into the cocoon of blankets she has created in bed.

_Damn rain. _

_ Damn Akatsuki leader._

She scowls for an audience that isn't present, scrunching her face into a childish pout. Trying to focus on the book propped against her bundled up knees, she leans back against the headboard, but her concentration slips away like rain against glass.

The Akatsuki leader's insistence on trying to make her understand his desire for world peace had left her troubled. His words had seemed genuine, yet they weren't compatible with the Akatsuki's track record. How could he wave all of his organization's crimes under the banner of peace?

_Well, peace after pain._

That much she had gathered; Pain wanted the shinobi villages to suffer before they could be "cleansed" and peace could take the place of war.

_But are his plans motivated by revenge under the guise of helping humanity, or…?_

Shaking her head in frustration and temporary defeat, she stretches out her neck, relieving some of the pressure building up with a quick series of pops down her vertebrae. Still, she can't completely rid herself of the headache growing ever stronger at her temples, not to mention the cold that had rapidly come on as the day progressed. One day after her little chat session with the Akatsuki leader and Sakura has become a shivering, sneezing mess.

This morning, Sakura had woken up and immediately made the executive decision that today would be a stay-in-bed-all-day kind of day.

_ It's about the only perk of being a prisoner here._

Sinking down lower against the headboard until she's nearly horizontal, Sakura allows the book to unceremoniously slide off her lap and lose the page she has been trying to read for the last fifteen minutes. She had woken up with the intention of going through more of the book she had swiped from Sasori's room, but the tiny scrawl of his cramped handwriting style had been too much of a strain on her eyes.

Her current headache warns her against fighting through it and, so, Sakura opts for staring up at the ceiling and tracing imaginary designs in the textured plaster.

Just as her eyes begin to droop for a mid-afternoon nap, an abrupt, crisp knock on the door jars Sakura out of her semi-unconscious state and she berates herself for not being more alert. Before she can fully rise out of her nest of blankets to tell the unwanted visitor to buzz off, the door is pushed inward and the devil himself walks into the room with an unreadable, heavy-lidded expression.

"Sasori," Sakura greets with a hint of irritation in her sleepy voice, squinting her eyes at the red-headed man. She had been spared the previous night from her usual forced sleeping arrangement because he and Deidara had been out on a mission for the last two days. Kisame, thankfully, had allowed her some space and was mostly tolerable aside from a few crass innuendoes. By some miracle, Hidan was nowhere to be found.

The puppet master strides into the room with purpose, not pausing for pleasantries or even to explain his purpose for being there. He cuts a direct path for Sakura's bed, leaning down slightly and catching Sakura on the chin, inspecting her face with a critical eye that makes Sakura self-conscious of the fact that she'd nearly rubbed her nose raw from all the tissues she'd been using.

"How'd you manage this, brat?" Sasori questions with annoyance at Sakura's obvious sickness.

Wrenching herself free from Sasori's loose grasp, Sakura haughtily turns her head away from her abductor and fires back, "Ask your stupid _Leader-sama_. I didn't _want _to spend an hour sitting out in the rain, thank you."

She refuses to amend the accusation with the fact that he had eventually ensured she had stayed dry. It's a mute point anyway; she still ended up getting sick.

But Sasori seems to have become momentarily deaf as he narrows his eyes at her, clearly blaming Sakura for getting herself sick.

"You know, you could just send me back home. I'm sure that would do me a world of good," Sakura suggests in a sickly sweet voice that doesn't at all match her dour expression.

"Yes, I'm sure I'll take that under serious consideration," Sasori deadpans, turning around and snapping his fingers back at Sakura without sparing another glance, "Follow me."

Huffing with indignity at his gruffness, Sakura flips Sasori off behind his back, but squeaks in surprise when she suddenly feels herself being tugged forward by an invisible force. But in reality, it's just Sasori, whose short allowance of patience already appears to be spent for the day. Sakura, with a blanket still wrapped around her torso like a twisted snake, can do little but follow the Akatsuki's lead, much to her chagrin. Gritting her teeth, she trudges behind him (though in reality it's a graceful stride thanks to Sasori's skilled manipulation).

Alternating between yawning and keeping barely focused eyes on the path he leads her down, Sakura wonders as to what he has in store for her.

_Could be anything._

She mentally rolls her shoulders. Sasori doesn't have to keep an eye on her to know that she is following him; Sakura can study the back of his head without the possibility of him turning his sharp gaze on her. Her careful eye for detail notes the stiffness in his shoulders, and his agitated pace requires Sakura to lengthen her gait, albeit against her own will. She can't see his hands due to the long sleeves of his cloak, but she wouldn't be surprised if they were clenched in fists.

_What has him all wound up?_

The puppet master stops in front of a door with a small rectangular window at about eye level, and Sakura, for once, doesn't mind when he gives an agitated tug on the chakra strings to draw her to his side. She wants to get a better look at that window – more importantly, what lies on the other side. She watches as Sasori places his right palm on the surface of the door, bringing forth a rather detailed looking seal. Luminescent kanji the color of ideal springtime grass swim before Sakura's eyes in an unintelligible blur before vanishing. A short passageway leads to another nondescript door. Sasori promptly opens it into a room that makes Sakura forget about her suspicions of chakra recognition seals in the Akatsuki's more secretive quarters.

_It's a…greenhouse._

Even her own inner thoughts are stunned by the sight plainly assaulting her eyes. She had found the rock garden to be out of place in a criminal hideout, but a greenhouse just seems absurd. To think any of the Akatsuki would actually have the skill, much less the nurturing capability to cultivate other living things just seems preposterous. Yet, perhaps the most lush, well-stocked assortment of carefully domesticated plants taunts her from their neatly aligned rows. She nearly laughs in incredulity as a curling, leafy tendril of ivy tickles her shoulder as she steps inside the threshold. Sasori, on the other hand, appears totally unaffected by the splendor of such vitality, spurring Sakura's confusion as to why he would bother to come here, much less bring her along.

Without a word, he heads down the cobbled path set in the rich soil through the greenhouse's longitudinal axis, making a sharp turn to the right that takes him out of Sakura's view as his red hair is lost behind an impressive stand of bamboo.

Feeling an odd mix of stranded and sudden freedom, Sakura internally shrugs her shoulders at essentially being abandoned and decides to make the most of her time in a place that is as close to the outside world as she can hope for. Strolling at a more leisurely pace than Sasori's, Sakura takes her time in admiring the thriving flora, enjoying the healthy swath of green pierced every now and then by a bright splash of purple, red, or orange. She bends down to sample the scent of some of the flowers, recalling how when she was with Pain that she had been reminded that she didn't do this much as a little kid.

_To have no life-or-death concerns._

Sakura removes the blanket still wrapped around her body, feeling warm in the slightly humid air of the greenhouse. Draping it neatly over her arm, she decides to make a turn down a smaller side aisle of plants at the point Sasori had – only in the completely opposite direction.

_To live in a world without the need for shinobi._

Sakura quite literally shakes her head to keep herself from going down that trail of thought.

_Stop it, Sakura._

Kneeling down to examine a cluster of ground-hugging shrubs with curiously bright yellow-orange berries, Sakura ignores the rich brown soil that dirties her knees, and reaches out her thumb and forefinger to delicately pluck one off its branch. Bringing it level with her eyes, Sakura scrutinizes its shape and color.

_I've never seen this type of plant before._

Since beginning her tutelage with Tsunade years ago, Sakura had found she had quite an aptitude for identifying plant species which suited her just fine seeing as how she liked to think of herself as something of a specialist in poison extraction and antidotes. Yet, as she racks her memory bank, Sakura can't identify the berry resting in the palm of her hand. Taking the edge of her fingernail, she carefully slices into its thick, water-resistant skin with minimal effort and pulls apart the two halves to get a better look at the internal structure. When she does, she detects a light, sweet aroma and against her practical side warning her against it, she contemplates a taste test.

But, a rustling sound just behind her prompts Sakura to drop the dissected fruit as she whirls around to see the branches of a small sapling quivering as if something had just rushed past.

_Sasori?_

Sakura furrows her brows in light distress, not too keen on being ambushed and still feeling a bit weary of Sasori's edgy mood. Rubbing away the berry's clear juice on the hem of her shirt, Sakura picks a few more from the bush and deposits them in her pants pocket for later examination. Rising to her feet, she dusts off the dirt from her clothes and meanders through the expansive greenhouse, not once sighting the man who brought her here.

The greenhouse itself has a rather high, domed ceiling, made entirely of triangular plates of glass to let in the sunlight (if there is ever any to be had in this predominantly gray-skied place) set in a metal framework. Unfortunately, the glass, much like her little window in the tea room, is incredibly thick and cloudy so as to make the outside landscape indistinguishable. With a touch of awe, Sakura notices the narrow, spiral platform that winds up to the dome's center. This, too, is occupied with flowering plants; ones that Sakura assumes require more sunlight than their counterparts at ground level that are being taken care of by fluorescent lights and warming benches. Or, perhaps, whoever the gardener is of this quaint little niche in the Akatsuki base, simply ran out of room and had to be creative with his available space.

With her head tilted back in wonderment to appraise the domed peak, Sakura is sent stumbling forward when something shoves into her back. Making wildly consternated noises, Sakura flaps her arms and whirls around to face whoever had just had the audacity to spook her.

Nothing but a row of potted conifers stares back at her. Goosebumps pepper Sakura's skin, but she does her best to mask her welling anxiety. Something else is definitely in the greenhouse with her, and it's not just Sasori.

Trying to swallow her nerves, Sakura decides to keep walking as if nothing happened, pretending that that overwhelming urge to take off running like scared prey isn't plaguing her once again – pretending that there isn't _something_ following her through this indoor forest.

Despite the comfortable warmth of the greenhouse, a cold sweat starts to break out on the back of Sakura's neck as she struggles to walk at a sedate pace.

A beautiful, coral colored rose in full bloom falls right in Sakura's path, so suddenly that she nearly crushes it under her boot. Bending down to pick it up by its slender green stem, Sakura inconspicuously glances up through a hooded brow to check her surroundings above. Leafy vines dangle from the ficus trees on either side of her path. None of them bear flowers (certainly not roses like this textbook example).

"Ouch!"

Sakura brings her pricked finger to her mouth, eying the tiny, devilish thorns with malice. Quickly, she rises to her feet, tossing the unwanted flower behind her.

Maybe finding Sasori would be a good idea right about now.

Sakura isn't sure why, but she has the strong impression that whatever is creeping around in the brush is currently the bigger threat than the irritable puppet master. Making a beeline for the central cobble-stoned path running through the greenhouse, Sakura is once again stopped in her tracks by a light pull on her hair. Reaching just above her left ear, she pulls away a red rose – this time just a bloom carefully snipped from its stem – that had been nestled in her hair.

_How?_

She stares disbelievingly down at the rose clenched in a cage-like grip between her fingers; its petals, the color of freshly spilled blood, are disconcertingly soft and pleasant to touch. But all Sakura can recall is the feel of that gooey, thick liquid coating her hands as she turned the partially crushed body of that nurse over in her hospital nightmare.

Her fist encloses around the bloom, crushing its perfect form into a heap of crumpled petals before throwing them on the ground.

Dark, masculine laughter greets her ears at this stunt.

With wide eyes, Sakura is off in a mad sprint for where she parted ways with Sasori.

_ Surely he has to still be around here somewhere. He wouldn't just let me roam freely…_

Sakura tries to stoke her confidence with this certainty.

_ Unless he knows he could leave me here because someone else was waiting._

Sakura's teeth clench together behind a worried frown while her eyes dart about for signs of the red-haired Akatsuki. A gust of wind (something that shouldn't even be present in an enclosed building) stirs up a pile of torn flower petals that scatter across the ground around Sakura's frantic feet, swirling around her body and causing Sakura to rip at her clothes and hair to try and swat them away like swarming bugs. Fighting the urge to scream at the unseen force behind this torment, Sakura's feet touch down on cobble stones and she heads in the direction Sasori turned, her head whipping from left and right to check down every aisle.

Just as she's contemplating doing the embarrassingly unthinkable and calling out Sasori's name, a whisper of air blows by her and Sakura catches the fading words of a voice she thought only existed in her dreams.

_**Better run faster, darling.**_

Sakura inhales sharply, nearly choking as she comes to a standstill. Adrenaline courses through her body, but cold fear locks her in place. With her legs spread apart in a guarded stance and her arms held in close to her torso and ready to lash out, she surveys her immediate surroundings. That voice had sounded so close, as though the speaker had been within inches of her, yet no one steps forward to confront the frightened kunoichi.

"Sakura," a placid voice drawls out.

Although there is no evident threat in the tone, Sakura jumps in a knee-jerk reaction. Turning around, she finds Sasori staring at her with clinical interest at her odd behavior. In his hands she sees a drawstring, brown cloth sack with a few green leaves poking out of the opening. More interesting, however, is the man who stands beside him, eying down Sakura like she's his next meal.

Blushing at her jumpiness, Sakura studies the man – if that's what he really is. Split bilaterally down the middle, one side of this stranger is pitch black so as to make his facial features indistinguishable, while the other half is a sharply contrasting white. However, she notes both of his feet are a pale white, with ridiculous nail polish on his toenails as seems to be a part of the Akatsuki uniform. But most startling of all, is the gigantic Venus fly-trap-like appendage encasing his head and upper body.

_Welcome to the jungle. Here there be monsters._

Sakura mentally rolls her eyes at her own thoughts, but can't shake the feeling that they're dead on.

Round, yellow eyes stare blankly back at her until the corners of the man's mouth pull up in some twisted resemblance of a smile. Oddly rounded teeth gleam back at her and his eyes sharpen on her awkwardly frozen position.

"Careful you don't get lost in here, girl. You smell as good as the flowers. Someone might mistake you for one. **Might just pluck you for himself**."

Sakura's mouth parts slightly in shock at the dual tones, one light and flippant while the other is deep and aggressive.

Neither is the voice she heard from…whatever had been chasing her.

_Still creepy though._

Narrowing her eyes back at the bi-colored man, Sakura relaxes from her tense stance and even takes a few steps forward to prove she isn't afraid of the two Akatsuki before her.

"Sakura, Zetsu is responsible for maintaining the greenhouse here and has offered to make use of some of the medicinal herbs he grows to help with your cold," Sasori's pointed tone makes it clear that he's still annoyed at Sakura for letting herself get sick.

Sakura lifts an eyebrow at this though she supposes it shouldn't be too much of a shock that a man that looks part plant himself would be skilled at gardening. She eyes the short, spiky hair on his head that's a fitting shade of green to blend in with the plants surrounding them. And just what had he been talking about earlier? Her scent?

"Yes, in my experience I've found cherry blossoms to be quite **fragile**," Zetsu says conversationally. Sakura can't help but gawk at the odd switch in tone.

_Dual personalities? Lovely._

"Come now, little girl, I've wasted enough time thanks to your carelessness."

Sasori's snarky barb makes Sakura bristle with contempt. It's not like she asked him to do any of this! And really, she wishes he hadn't. Maybe then she wouldn't have gone wandering around the greenhouse and to get hunted down like lost prey.

"Good-bye, Sakura," the white side of Zetsu lifts his arm from within the long sleeve of the Akatsuki cloak, "Feel free to come back sometime. **Yes, do come back. Who knows what you might find here**."

Sakura suppresses a shiver and hurriedly catches up to Sasori's retreating figure, not waiting for him to apply the chakra threads. The sooner she leaves this place, the better.

* * *

Honestly, Sakura hadn't meant to be impressed by the quality or the potency of the herbs Sasori had procured from Zetsu's greenhouse, but the proof was in the tea. The blend of chamomile, sage, echinacea, goldenseal, and peppermint had combined for a rather strong, unappealing attack on her taste buds, but being a medic, Sakura is well-versed in the ways of grinning and bearing with it.

Not that she deigned to offer Sasori an appreciative smile when he brought her a steaming mug of the freshly brewed concoction to her room. In actuality, she pretty much turned her nose up at him until his temper flared and he slammed it down on her night stand, threatening to force it down her throat with a funnel if every last drop wasn't gone by the time he returned in one hour.

Now, resting peacefully against her pillows, Sakura nurses the warm cup between her hands, blowing gently to cool the surface of the rich brown liquid.

She refuses to attribute it to the fact that she's rather disturbed to picture Sasori force-feeding her with a funnel. No, it's simply medical curiosity that prompts her to inspect the tea.

Soon, every last drop is consumed and Sakura is left feeling pleasantly satisfied as her cold symptoms are subdued. Feeling sleepy from the chamomile, Sakura's eyes lazily drag across her boringly plain bedroom until they land upon the book perched precariously at the foot of her bed, about to tip over the edge.

That's when Sakura's brilliant mind has an idea that fills her with such excitement that she snaps up at the waist like a springboard, and makes a wild lunge for the book, nearly diving off the end of the bed in her enthusiasm.

_You underestimate my abilities, puppet man. That'll be your undoing. It'll be the undoing of all you Akatsuki!_

Sakura hugs the now very precious book to her chest, closing her eyes tightly, not believing this stroke of luck.

Her captors had left her to her own devices often enough that she had gone snooping around for reading material. Sasori had allowed her to keep an old text of his whose detailed contents were essentially a recipe book for some rather nasty toxins.

And now?

Now, she has been given a garden to work with.

Really, it just seems to all click together.

Shaking with silent giggles, a strong wave of emotion washes over Sakura, nearly bringing her to tears with longing for her home.

_I'll be back soon, guys. The ticket is in my hands._

Sobering up quickly, Sakura wipes the moisture from her eyes with the back of her hand and sits up to flip through the pages of all her options.

Something she can't put a finger on spurs her to move faster. Time is of the essence.

* * *

The Elixir of Near Death is what Sakura's mind draws mental circles around. Odorless, fast-acting, and requiring a short amount of preparation time, it's her best option. Initially, she had no qualms with leaving any one of her captors on the ground, stone-cold dead, as she made her escape. But to inject the poison would be tricky enough; to escape a base crawling with Akatsuki when the chakra signature of one of their members snuffs out would be near impossible. She needs something that will quickly incapacitate whoever is on prisoner watch so she can slip away while the rest of the organization goes on believing everything is under control.

Now, she has to find a way to get let back in the greenhouse long enough to steal what she needs to make the serum that might just save her life.

_How ironic it's called Near Death._

So long as her luck keeps up, everything she needs will be there. Fingers crossed.

Tucking the book under her pillow for safe-keeping, despite how obvious a place it is, Sakura decides it's time to take her mid-afternoon tea as she ponders over just how she'd manage to get in contact with Zetsu again. Creepy as he is (even creepy for Akatsuki standards), she has a feeling his help, albeit unknowing, will be detrimental. Surely someone that meticulous about the arrangement of his greenhouse would know his inventory of plants and where they could be found.

_Ugghh. I can't just point-blank hand him a list of every plant I need like I'm shopping at some kind of grocery store. _

At least one, if not several, of the items she needs would tip him off to her intentions. No, Sakura needs subtlety.

Just as she begins to ponder ways to go about such a task, perhaps the most unsubtle of the Akatsuki barges into the room, nearly causing Sakura to spill her piping hot cup of tea.

"Yay! Tobi found pretty Sakura-chan!" the masked man bounces into the room, his hand motions and gleefully delighted squeals making up for a lack of facial expressions.

"Tobi," Sakura's scowl and clipped tone does nothing to deter his enthusiasm. Really, she doesn't know whether to write the man off as an idiotic nuisance or be crying out for help because that mask might just be hiding something truly evil. The unwanted creeping of The Lurker had died down considerably, nearly to the point that Sakura could forget he even existed. However, she isn't sure if the new persistence of the childish Akatsuki is any more preferable.

"Tobi wants Sakura-chan to come play with Tobi!" the man leans down to press his hands insistently on the low-sitting tea table, his bottom wiggling excitedly back and forth like a playful puppy. Sakura works furiously to maintain her impassive look, fighting hard against the urge to raise an eyebrow at the Akatsuki's downright inane behavior.

Opening her mouth to promptly refuse his request, Sakura observes the nearly horizontal tilt of the masked shinobi's head. His entire posture begs for her acceptance.

_He really is just like a puppy._

The corners of Sakura's lightly glossed lips hitch up ever so slightly.

_And every dog needs a master to obey._

"Okay, Tobi. Sakur – I mean – I would love to play," Sakura primly sets her teacup down on its saucer and blots the corners of her mouth with a napkin.

Tobi's odd voice warbles, "Really?"

Slightly annoyed, Sakura fakes her best sweet disposition, the kind used when meeting a friend's parents for the first time.

"Definitely!" she giggles for effect, "I'm bored out of my mind here."

To indicate that she means business, Sakura rises to her feet, dusting imaginary lint off her clothes and waiting expectantly for the round of jubilant hollers that her acceptance is sure to evoke from Tobi. He doesn't disappoint.

Jumping up to his full height, Tobi claps his hands rapidly like she just did an amazing performance and Sakura is swept into a spinning, chaotic mess of excitement. Before she can fully register what's happening, the two hit the door running, Sakura's hand held firmly in Tobi's gloved one as she's led through the twists and turns of the Akatsuki base's internal structure.

With her loose hair (which had been growing considerably longer under Sasori's care) whipping in front of her eyes, Sakura has little choice but to put her trust in Tobi that he won't let her ram into any walls as they careen around corners at break-neck speeds.

"T-Tobi!" Sakura cries, "Where are we going?"

Only slowing down marginally, Tobi replies nonchalantly, "Tobi doesn't know! Tobi just likes running with Sakura-chan!"

_ Is this guy for real?_

Pulling back on his hand insistently, Sakura eventually gets the hyperactive man to slow down.

"Why'd Sakura-chan stop?" Tobi asks, turning his head back to get a glimpse of a slightly out of breath Sakura.

Breathing heavily, Sakura tries to pacify the whine she can hear building in his voice, "Um, I just…got an idea! How about you take me to Zetsu's greenhouse? We could go for a walk and maybe pick some flowers?"

Inwardly, Sakura grins cattishly to herself as she lays the bait…

Tobi cocks his head to the side in a manner that she can only assume means he's deeply considering her suggestion (the mask makes it difficult to tell).

"Hmmm, Tobi doesn't know. Zetsu doesn't like it when Tobi plays in the greenhouse when Zetsu isn't there," Tobi replies slowly, clearly wanting to go along with Sakura's idea, but afraid of the repercussions he'd face once Zetsu finds out.

"Please," Sakura pouts, "I'd really like another chance to look around. I hardly had the chance when Sasori took me there."

_Kami, I feel gross doing this. His childishness is rubbing off on me._

"Weelllll," Tobi drags the word out, clearly torn, "Tobi supposes it would be okay for just a little while."

_Got'cha._

_ "_Really? That'd be great, Tobi!" Sakura gushes, clasping her hands in front of her chest in a show of suppressing her delight.

Having made his decision, Tobi enthusiastically sees it through with firm resolve. Taking Sakura by the hand once more, he dramatically marches on with the pink-haired girl in tow.

"Tobi wants to make pretty Sakura-chan a bouquet as pretty as Sakura-chan!"

Sakura makes an appropriate sound of encouragement and thanks, but her thoughts are quickly scrolling through her supplies list. When they come upon the sealed door, she frets that the Akatsuki wouldn't have trusted someone like Tobi with such secretive and complicated hand signs, but with mild surprise she watches as he quite adeptly forms a flurry of signs that must be correct because the emblem of kanji glows brightly on the door, just as it did for Sasori. After that, it's just a short hop and a skip down the passageway before Sakura finds herself stepping through the threshold into a green world.

She can't help but stop and pause for a second to take in the fresh scent that reminds her just a little of Konoha's forests.

_Now then, down to business._

Clasping her hands together, satisfied with her game plan, Sakura turns to Tobi who's playing an invisible game of hopscotch on the cobble stone path.

"Tobi, I think I'm going to take a look around," Sakura calls out as she already begins to diverge away from the main path through the greenhouse, hoping to shake off the little nuisance without being too obvious about it.

"Okay, pretty Sakura-chan! Tobi will come find Sakura-chan when Tobi has a beautiful bouquet picked," Tobi waves eagerly back at her retreating form. Sakura raises an arm in response without looking back.

_Now…where would he put the medicinal herbs? Surely he'd try to group them together…_

Sakura turns right, hoping that because Sasori had disappeared in this direction and come back with the herbs needed to make her tea, then perhaps she'd find the other plants growing that she'd need for her own special brand of poison. Walking down an aisle of bamboo shoots, Sakura rounds the corner and comes across a nice little spread of an herbal garden, overhead lamps gently warming the delicate leaves of the licorice plants at her feet as well as the hardier, spiny leaves of some large aloe vera plants.

_Jackpot._

Crouching down so that her hunched form is nearly invisible amongst the vegetation, Sakura pokes around the diverse supply of herbs, taking stock of the bright purple passion flowers and their complicated arrangement of petals; she runs an index finger over the delicate hair-like corona that forms a kind of halo around the flower's center. Her sharp eyes then catch sight of the valerian plant whose roots she'll need in making the extract.

And just like that, Sakura begins ticking off items on her mental grocery list, adding a few leaves from a kava kava plant she happens upon by chance, as well as a few hops flowers she plucks off like grapes from a vine.

Imagining a large grandfather clock ticking away somewhere, Sakura's eyes scan the area she has deemed the medicinal herb section of Zetsu's garden, but she can't locate the one plant that is absolutely vital to the success of her concoction; without it, her elixir won't take effect fast enough and whoever she uses it against will end up catching onto her plan.

_Come on. Come on._

Sakura bites her lip, feeling the prickle of sweat on her back from the humidity of the greenhouse coupled with her tension. She has come across some strange flora in this garden, a large portion of it being completely foreign to her knowledge. But if a criminal organization had any type of plant in its care, she would have thought betting on this one would have been a smart choice.

Getting down on her hands and knees, she desperately begins brushing over the ground-hugging plants at her feet, hoping against hope that perhaps the larger, leafier plants simply obscured it from view.

_It has to be here. This is my chance – probably my only chance. Come on, Papaver somniferum!_

_ Papaver somniferum_, or the opium poppy, is the last ingredient she needs to collect from the greenhouse.

_Maybe I was staking too much hope on the Akatsuki extending their criminal activities to the illegal narcotics market…_

Running a hand tiredly over her face, trying to reclaim her calm, Sakura exhales slowly and attempts to look at the garden with fresh eyes. Maybe she can substitute something else for the poppy plant she needs.

_Ok, get it together, girl. What else can produce the same effects as the opium poppy? Ummm…let's see…maybe I could - !_

"Saaakuuurrraaa-chaaaan! Tobi picked a beautiful bouquet of flowers and wants to give it to pretty Sakura-chan now!"

_Shit! Shit! Shit! I don't know!_

Scrambling to get to her feet, Sakura wipes the soil from her hands and tugs down on the hem of her tunic in an attempt to cover the slight bulge of her pants' pockets, hoping it doesn't look too conspicuous. Tobi's voice had come from her left, not too far away. Ducking her head, she swiftly scurries a few aisles away, trying to distance herself from the plants that had held her interest. With longing eyes, she scans the flowers she passes by, but none of them yield the hallucinogenic bloom she needs.

Feeling angry and defeated, Sakura snatches at a cluster of anemones and snaps the stems from their bed in a terracotta pot.

"Flower-chan! Where is pretty Flower-chan? Tobi thinks Flower-chan got lost in all the pretty flowers."

The annoying pitch of the masked shinobi's rambling grates against Sakura's ears. Not bothering to respond since she knows he'll come across her eventually, Sakura looks down at the crushed flowers in her hands with belated regret for quite literally cutting their lives so short for no good reason other than letting her quick temper get the best of her.

Unceremoniously, she drops to the dusty path at her feet and, with little else to do as she waits for Tobi to find her, begins to pluck each petal one by one from the flowers, creating a small, fragrant pile of purples, reds, and whites.

_The anemone means "forsaken," I think._

Bitterly, she starts shredding the petals into smaller and smaller pieces. She can't help but think how appropriate this flower is for her situation.

_What do I do now? What can I do? If it isn't here, I have no way of getting my hands on it and the whole plan is ruined._

"Sakura!" Tobi chirps delightedly, approaching Sakura with quick footsteps, his hands hidden behind his back.

_He probably picked a bunch of weeds._

Sakura mentally rolls her eyes, but outwardly attempts to look at least minutely excited to receive whatever Tobi has for her. The oddball of the Akatsuki doesn't comment on Sakura's dismantled pile of anemones, and she quickly steps in front of it, not wanting to encourage questions of what happened, and certainly not any questions as to what got her so angry.

"Here! Tobi hopes Sakura-chan likes it," he says without further ado, brandishing a voluminous bouquet of flowers for Sakura to take.

But they're not just any flowers. No, they're the same flowers Sakura had come across during her first visit to Zetsu's greenhouse.

A beautiful mix of coral and red roses in the peak of their bloom fills her vision. Sakura nearly takes a step back in surprise. The tiny, dusty-red thorns, sharp as kitten's teeth, catch her eye. But they don't bother the man clutching them in offering to the woman before him; his thick gloves protect his hands from their piercing bite.

Could it merely be coincidence? Could this seemingly blundering idiot who made it into the Akatsuki have found the exact same flowers pleasing to the eye? Sakura knows it's possible...

Tobi cocks his head to the side in an inquisitive manner at Sakura's lack of response. She has yet to lift a finger to reach out for the bouquet.

_But if it's not a coincidence…that means…_

"What's wrong? _Sakura_."

_That voice. It's – _

"Don't you like the flowers _Tobi_," his voice changes into a perfect imitation, "Picked just for you?"

_Him._

There is no mistaking it. She has blindly been led here by someone she doesn't even know the face of. The person stalking her through the garden the first time, The Lurker, even the one haunting her dreams – Sakura would gamble money on the chances that she is currently staring down the man responsible for all of it. She had been lulled into a fake sense of relative safety by the false Tobi persona, deeming his childish antics nonthreatening. How she wished she hadn't been…what? Trusting?

Exactly what Itachi had warned her not to be.

_Fool me once, shame on you._

Sakura takes an unconscious step backwards and Tobi drops the arm holding out the roses, taking a stride forward to match her own.

"Tobi just wants to play," the darker, serious voice that unnerves Sakura is replaced with one she has become familiar with when conversing with the masked man. It sickens her the way he switches back and forth so easily. Clearly, he is just playing with her; which reminds Sakura that if this is the man tormenting her in her sleep, he is also the man behind the attack on Konoha's hospital. Sakura's eyes narrow, fury simmering within their depths.

_Fool me twice, shame on me._

"Who are you?" Sakura straightens her posture, raising her chin to show she won't be intimidated.

"Why, Tobi is Tobi of course!" he responds happily, placing a hand on his hip and waving the other still holding the bouquet at Sakura as though indignant that she had forgotten such an obvious fact.

"Cut the act!" Sakura stomps her foot, "I want to know who you really are."

"Oh?" this time his voice is clearly not Tobi-like, "So you think, little one."

Sakura swallows thickly, feeling her heart beat frantically behind her rib cage, fearing it may just punch a hole straight through her chest.

"But," he continues, closing the gap between them until Sakura is left with a meager arm's length separating her from the bottomless pit bored into that ugly, orange mask, "I think you'll regret it."

Noting the way her lips quiver wordlessly, Tobi makes an amused sound in the back of his throat. Without breaking eye contact (or what Sakura assumes to be eye contact for someone wearing a mask), Tobi selects a single rose from the cluster in his hand, letting all the others fall at their feet. The snapping of its stem sounds abnormally loud in the dead silence of the greenhouse. Sakura is reminded of just how alone she is with this enemy.

_What would Naruto do?_

Had Naruto ever been afraid? Perhaps for the safety of the people he cared about, but at the moment, Sakura can't recall a single instance of when he had been afraid for himself. He was always barreling headfirst into a fight, forgetting that he wasn't invincible no matter how much he seemed to be at times.

"I'm not afraid. I want to know the name of the person responsible for the attack on Konoha so I can personally send him to hell."

"Konoha, hm? You still miss that pathetic village of yours. If you're so insistent to know more about me then perhaps I will indulge you," his smooth voice considers aloud, as though he really couldn't care less, but is acting on a whim.

Sakura startles under the light brush to the side of her face. She resists the temptation to reach for the flower placed gently behind her ear.

"Just remember: you asked for this, love."

Sakura's eyes widen at the familiar term of endearment, and through the swiftly coalescing gray mist clouding her mind, she is almost certain she can make out one particular spot darker than all that surrounds it.

And within that lonely black hole is the red eye of a demon.

* * *

_Sakura slowly eases into consciousness bit by bit, though it feels more like slowly coming into existence piece by piece. At first, she is only dimly aware of a blinding light, but it doesn't really hurt because she isn't even certain that she has eyes. The concept of sight is foreign, but ever so slowly, thoughts start to trickle through her consciousness like syrup through a tiny funnel. _

_ 'I'm Sakura,' she realizes._

_ 'Where am I?' is her next thought._

_ 'Am I dead?' follows soon after._

_ She looks from side to side, but it is impossible to tell if her point of view changes when all around her is insubstantial whiteness._

_ 'It's just light.'_

_ The desire to reach out and somehow touch the light consumes her and makes her realize that she, unlike the light, is a substantial being. She has a physical body and is not some random thread of intelligent thought drifting in space. _

_ And just like that, Sakura's hand is suddenly right in front of her face. She clenches it into a fist and marvels at the ingenuity of the human body as the tendons and veins jump out in relief beneath her pale skin. With the realization that she possesses a body, she suddenly feels the oddity of some sort of pressure weighing her down._

_ 'Gravity?'_

_ Sakura taps her foot, but it doesn't make a sound and she can't feel anything solid, yet she is firmly planted in space. Standing straight and tall, she looks down at the "ground," but sees nothing more than endless white that is now starting to give her a headache from the strain on her eyes in trying to make something out of nothing._

_ Sakura is beginning to get irked with all of the nothingness. _

_ "Is anyone there?" the lost girl shouts into the distance._

_ Though she can hear her own voice, nothing answers her call, not even a teasing echo._

_ Cupping her hands around her mouth, Sakura cries out, "Hello? Is anyone out there?"_

_ Nothing._

_ Frustrated, she spins around on the heel of her boot, "Hey! Is anyone – ?!"_

_ Sakura flinches in surprise at the figure standing directly behind her, and if the person's enlarged eyes and gaping mouth are any indication, she's pretty shocked, too. Sakura's hands drop bonelessly to her sides._

_ 'That's…me.'_

_ A girl with startled, emerald eyes and pink hair that falls over her shoulders stares back at her. She's donned the same pair of maroon shorts and long-sleeved black T-shirt, but Sakura can't ever recall her own skin looking so ghostly nor her expression so forlorn. Sakura fingers a strand of hair resting against her own shoulder and watches her double mimic the action at the same time like a mirror image._

_ That's when she sees it. Against the white it's difficult to make out, but there is a clear border surrounding the girl in a large rectangle. _

_ 'It really is a mirror. What could it possibly be doing here?'_

_ Something shadowy darts behind her reflection, seemingly far in the distance. Sakura gasps and whirls around, but nothing is there. When she turns back, her image is pressed up against the mirror, her palms pressed flat against the surface, and Sakura nearly shrieks in terror. Her lips move frantically, but it's like trying to hear a conversation under water. Hesitantly, Sakura edges closer to the mirror and she catches the look of desperation in her double's eyes. _

"_OOOOO!...OOOOO!" her reflection's cries grow in volume and urgency as she bangs a fist lightly against the glass. Sakura catches a shadowed figure rush across the background of her reflection's mirror world._

"_I can't hear what you're saying! What's wrong?" Sakura doesn't even stop to question the insanity of talking to her reflection._

"_OOOOOO!..GOOOOO! YOU HAVE TO GO!"_

_Finally, the words make sense to Sakura's ears and she regards her double with alarm. Clearly, something is terribly wrong here. _

"_Let me help you!" Sakura yells back, hoping her voice carries through the mirror. But her reflection shakes her head frantically in the negative and continues to bang her fist against the mirror, imploring Sakura to leave. _

"_Please, we can face it together," Sakura tries to reason with a calm voice, stepping closer to the mirror's face._

'_How do I reach her?'_

_Unthinkingly, Sakura raises her hand to rest against the chilled glass surface._

"_NO! DON'T - !" _

_But her double's warning comes too late and Sakura stares in wonderment as tiny fissures crackle into existence under her light touch, spreading to the outer edges of the glass in the blink of an eye and covering the entire surface in a lace-like web of cracks. White light, too painful to look at, bursts through the cracks and Sakura raises an arm to shield her already closed eyes._

_And then she's falling…_

_Down and down some more, screams are torn from her throat and lost far behind her for no one to hear._

_And then she hits solid ground that really is substantial beneath her touch this time._

_Too shocked to get to her feet just yet, Sakura barely manages to register that a fall that should have killed her beyond a reasonable doubt had barely left her winded. Raising her head off the ground, she squints through the clouds of dirt and dust that had billowed up from her crash landing. _

_Ruin meets her eyes._

_Still a little jarred from the fall, Sakura staggers to her feet, nearly falling down again when her foot catches on the corner of some building's roof that appears to have been sliced clean off its foundation._

'_What the?'_

_Something like a warning bell buzzes in Sakura's head, telling her not to go on – to avert her eyes and save herself._

_Against her better judgment, Sakura clambers out of the debris filled pit and surveys the landscape._

_Only to bulk at the view that greets her. More of the same covers the trashed land for as far as she can see. Buildings, mostly demolished save for some scattered walls of brick standing a few feet high in some places are all that remain to acknowledge that a vast city once occupied the land Sakura now stands on. Metal pipes for the city's gas lines lay exposed in some places and Sakura can see small fires slowly burning throughout the devastation, working like frenzied vultures to finish off whatever might still be clinging to life. The air is thick with smoke and Sakura watches as a busted water main gushes into what used to be someone's home, turning everything into a soupy, muddy mess._

_Not knowing what possesses her, Sakura walks through the destruction, feeling like an outsider that has just stumbled upon an ancient, abandoned civilization and trying to puzzle out how these people lived._

_More importantly, what happened to them?_

_But as she begins inspecting the rubble in closer detail, she realizes that this obviously isn't some ancient civilization that had been abandoned to the wear of time. Twisted bed frames poke out under toppled blocks of cement. The charred half of what was probably someone's dinner table had made its way out to what she assumes was a front lawn at some point. It's difficult to tell when all the grass is either burned away or shriveled to deadened clumps in a few sparse patches. Trudging along slowly and taking her time in picking her way carefully through the private residences of this ruined city, Sakura gasps when she comes across what she assumes to be the main thoroughfare. The path is widened considerably compared to the streets she had been navigating moments ago, but it looks as if some angered giant had smacked his fists down upon the road in a fit of rage. In some places, the road is simply altogether missing and Sakura is forced to make leaps and bounds across crevices that go farther down than she would care to find out._

_Skirting around the rim of one particularly large impact crater, Sakura looks sadly upon the torn banners littering the street in what she believes to be the market district. Faded and torn, she can make out a few words here and there, offering the best produce in town or the finest quality textiles for the lowest prices. _

'_These poor people…What could have done this?'_

_Smashed trees and collapsed fences make it evident to Sakura that she has now crossed into what was once a park. Dented lamp posts bent nearly in two lay in rusted heaps and the upheaval of the extensively cracked sidewalk makes Sakura envision monster-sized moles tunneling underground. As she transitions from the park area to the neighboring section of town (with a lot of rubble and litter making the boundaries between the two completely indistinguishable), Sakura comes to a stop at a row of much grander buildings, their metal framework still somehow standing like quivering skeletons. Heaps of broken marble surround the naked structures and Sakura steps over a shelf of books buried beneath a few splintered rafters._

'_A library, maybe?'_

_Really Sakura doesn't enjoy playing this guessing game of Name this Pile of Wreckage, but it keeps her mind from thinking about the people that are nowhere to be seen._

_ Just as she's about to bend down to wriggle free one of the texts in hopes of finding out what city this is, something catches her eye. Cracked and with faded paint, Sakura grasps hold of the slab of polished concrete and does her best to pull it loose from the litter obscuring it. Hoisting it out of the trash, Sakura wipes away the thick coating of grime that had accumulated on it._

_ She nearly faints._

_ Painted in faded black ink is the kanji for "Fire" centered in a circle of faded red._

_ The slab slips from her grasp and Sakura is too late in fumbling for it and watches with silent horror as it crashes back into a mound of broken stone._

_ "No," her voice is barely a whisper._

_ Fleeing from the site, now having an idea as to her orientation in this maze of ruin, Sakura cuts the quickest path she can for the city's outer limits. Along the way, she starts seeing more and more of what she wishes she could be blind to. Whether she had simply been refusing to accept the truth earlier, or there had really been no evidence to support it, Sakura doesn't know. It doesn't matter._

_ The worst may have already come and passed and Sakura did nothing to help her loved ones. _

_ Though she knows the confirmation she's looking for could be easily seen from the distance she's at, Sakura refuses to let her eyes rise above the horizon line. No longer minding her footing, Sakura hurdles over piles of garbage and clambers up mountains of brick. _

_ And when at last she reaches the base of the mountain, she holds her breath and cranes her neck back with fearful eyes…_

_ And a wail rises in her throat as her knees give way beneath her and Sakura collapses to the ground, reality nearly crushing her flat._

_ Far above her, a terrible, charred scar rakes through the craggy rock, cutting fresh and deep like a new wound. Little evidence remains that the symbol of Konoha's strength and pride once graced this mountain's face. _

_ Sakura cries for Naruto. She cries for Tsunade and Shizune. She cries for Kakashi and her parents. She cries for Ino and all the young medics she mentored at the hospital. Sakura is pretty sure she sheds a tear for every citizen of Konoha and then some. She cries for so long, she nearly forgets what it feels like not to cry._

_ But when her eyes finally dry and her ribs stop aching from so much sobbing, Sakura wipes at the tightness on her cheeks from so many dried tear tracks and sees, even through the smoky haze lingering above the city, that the sun is setting on what was once her home._

_ Tired of crying, tired of feeling bone-crushing loneliness and grief, Sakura rises to her feet and turns to the ruin at her back._

_ "Damn you!" she shrieks into the early evening air, and her voice carries for quite a ways, bouncing off the demolished buildings._

_ "I'll find you, I swear it. And when I do, I'll kill you. I'll bring you back to life just to kill you again. And I'll keep doing that for EVERY LIFE YOU STOLE! You hear me, bastard? You keep hiding in the shadows; it won't save you!"_

_ Sakura's voice goes hoarse from screaming and she can't recall ever feeling so exhausted in all of her life._

_ "Is that so?"_

_ Sakura whirls around with the fury of a tornado and Tobi jokingly throws his hands out as if worried she may just spin off balance and fall over._

_ "Tobi," though she feels disgusted even referring to him by a name that she knows is false, lounges behind her on a toppled tree trunk. _

_ Sakura doesn't even make the decision to act, she simply does. Racing at him in an obvious frontal attack, Sakura isn't thinking strategy. _

_ She is merely thinking what cold, sweet revenge must taste like._

_ Sakura lets her fist fly straight and true like an arrow launched from its bow._

_ 'I'll break that mask and then I'll break the face behind it.'_

_ But waiting until the last second, Tobi opts not to dodge her attack, but to rise to his feet and stop her fist in the palm of his hand. Sakura's body shakes with unbridled rage as the man's gloved fingers enclose her fist. When she jerks back on her arm, he refuses to let go._

_ "I have to commend you, Sakura. Most wouldn't have been able to catch on to what I was doing, let alone put up any form of resistance to it. It took a bit longer to get you to sink to this layer of consciousness, but in the end there was little you could do to prevent it. Sorry, love, you just don't know what you're up against."_

_ He brings his free hand up as if to stroke her cheek, but Sakura swats it away like an angry lioness._

_ "That's because you're too big of a coward to tell me who you are," Sakura venomously fires back, rearing for a fight._

_ But the masked man doesn't rise to the bait._

_ "Your bravado is becoming tiresome, Sakura. I know that beneath that anger is a little girl crying in fear. It's pointless to pretend otherwise," the man sighs as though bored with the whole affair already._

_ Sakura swings her free fist with a passionate battle cry, but to much the same effect. The man stops her fist and she's unwillingly locked in place, struggling to wrench her hands free, but he effortlessly keeps a clamp-like hold on them._

_ Sakura doesn't know what to expect next. A swift death? Or perhaps he's the slow and painful type?_

_ "I want to show you something."_

_ Sakura blinks in confusion, and before she can even think of a response, the air around her blurs into a thick tunnel of wind before dissipating into small eddies of scattered leaves. Tobi forcefully turns her around, releasing his hold on her. Sakura yanks her arms in close to her body, about to snarl something at the Akatsuki, but something catches her eye._

_ Before her, in its entirety, lies Konoha. From atop what was once the Hokage Monument, Sakura can see that nothing stands unscathed, if it even stands at all. She had truly only seen a small portion of the destruction; the village had been large and sprawling in its prosperity. Now it's completely leveled, craters marring the city like the surface of the moon. Sakura's eyes dart to approximately where her home should be, but little is recognizable of her neighborhood and it has nothing to do with her distant vantage point. _

_ Sakura had thought she was all cried out, but the prickle of fresh tears enters her eyes with old familiarity. Keeping her back on the man standing off somewhere behind her, Sakura lowers her head in mourning._

_ "Why?" her broken voice barely reaches her own ears, but the man must have somehow caught it._

_ "Change is on the horizon. All of the hidden villages will either submit to Akatsuki or meet the same fate as Konoha. What you see before you is a vision of what's to come. The politics of Konoha do not coincide well with what I aim to achieve."_

_ Just like that, a small flame of hope is lit within her. _

_ 'I can stop this. I must stop this'_

_ "I won't let you raise a finger against Konoha," Sakura says stubbornly, trying to keep the tears out of her voice._

_ "I already have," he says nonchalantly, and Sakura imagines he'd be raising his eyebrows at her if she could see his face._

_ "This isn't a game! I don't know why you're doing this to me! I don't know why you've captured me just to torment me with the sight of my home in shambles," Sakura cries in outrage, whipping around to face the man, "But if you actually believe that I'm going to let you make all of this," Sakura motions to the wreckage behind her, "Become a reality, you've got another thing coming."_

_ Tobi flash steps before her eyes, coming to rest mere inches away from her rigid form. At such close range, Sakura can make out the tiny scratches and nicks in the orange paint of his mask. _

_ 'Just how long have you been playing this farce?'_

_ "You've got one thing right, love: this isn't a game. Revolution is no small matter."_

_ Sakura finds herself unable to break her gaze away from the swirling tomoe of the Sharingan. Unable to react, she can do nothing to remove the hand that settles on the side of her face._

_ "And you'll be there by my side to witness the re-building of this world."_

_ Sakura can't form the words to refute his statement, being too stunned to make her tongue function properly._

_ A gloved finger traces the contour of her mouth and somewhere in the back of her mind, Sakura is surprised by the gentleness of the action._

_ "I won't," she manages to say at last._

_ "There is only one true constant throughout life and that is change. You will soon see things as I do."_

_ Sakura's tunnel vision centers on the black hole in the man's face, the red eye now lost in shadow. Further and further she gets sucked in until she can literally feel her body being pulled into the vacuum of that gaping hole._

_ And as the world goes dark, Sakura can hear the man's faraway voice quietly say, "I'll make sure of it."_

* * *

Only from her readings of his medical texts does Sakura know that the small note left on her nightstand was written by Sasori. Blinking away the sleep from her eyes and biting back a groan from the pounding in her head, Sakura reaches a clumsy hand out to snatch it up, nearly swiping it off the table in the process. Not bothering to sit up, Sakura brings the note close to her face while struggling to focus her eyes.

_Damn, why's his writing have to be so small?_

Her eyes pulse as though she had spent the better part of the day in a staring contest with the sun.

But after multiple scans of the brief scrap of paper, Sakura's hazy mind assembles the letters into proper order and is made to understand that Sasori will be gone on a mission for the next several days and she will be left in the care of Deidara.

_Joy._

Sitting up doesn't improve her headache and it certainly doesn't help her bad mood, but Sakura feels like she needs a shower. The previous night's dream had been a doozy and Sakura hopes a little steam and shampoo will help wash away all troublesome thoughts of masked men, false identities, and demolished villages.

_I just want to forget._

But as Sakura throws off her bed sheets and makes her way to the shower, peeling off her clothes along the way, she comes across the herbs stuffed into the pockets of her shorts. Only slightly crumpled and wilted, they are still fresh enough to be useful in her elixir so Sakura places them on the bathroom counter, promising herself to attend to their proper storage once she takes care of herself.

It's not until she's running her fingers through her hair to slather the roots with conditioner that Sakura's hand runs over an odd, mushy clump. Pulling the mass free from her dampened locks, Sakura stares in confusion at the dark red glob falling to pieces in her hand.

The scent of roses clogs the humid bathroom air and Sakura drops the blossom with a gasp.

_It wasn't a dream._

_ That man – Tobi – he did something to me. I saw Konoha…_

Rose petals swirl round and round in the water circling the drain.

_He's the one. I thought it was just part of the dream, but Tobi isn't who he says he is. He's the one behind the attack on Konoha and he's planning another one._

Sakura falters and hastily plasters herself against the tiled wall of the shower stall to prevent herself from taking a nasty fall on the slick floor. With her heart beating madly against her chest, Sakura clutches her head between her hands, trying to force herself to take calming breaths.

_What do I do?!_

For a while, all Sakura can manage to do is huddle under the steady stream of the showerhead.

But moments of weakness can only last for so long before the desire to act itches so ferociously just beneath the skin. This is what prompts Sakura into motion; finishing her shower, she dresses quickly and dries her hair. Studying her reflection in the mirror, she fusses over her bangs for a minute and adds a spritz of perfume to her neck and on the insides of her wrists.

It might be a long shot, but every advantage she has must be exploited at this point. Her friends and family are certainly worth the dent in her self-respect.

Sakura isn't sure if she's glad that her night won't be spent in the company of a still overtly irritated Sasori. She isn't sure because the alternative is the puppet master's partner. Sakura has heeded Itachi's advice, albeit a bit begrudgingly, and has been choosing to stick closer to Sasori and the Sharingan user himself whenever necessary. She hasn't been one-on-one with the bomb artist since the little mishap on the night he dragged her into playing that ridiculous drinking game. So far, she hasn't regretted her decision to do this. Sasori, while having nefarious schemes of his own for keeping Sakura close at hand, generally doesn't make unwanted passes at her and can even be intellectually stimulating in conversation when the mood suites him (if not a tad belittling and infuriating with the superiority complex he seems to possess).

On the other hand, Sakura will not admit that she enjoys her time spent with Itachi, but his company is certainly preferable to all other Akatsuki. While aloof at most times, Itachi never threatens her physical well-being (aside from the time she tried to escape during her spar with Kisame) and he is always polite towards her, almost treating her like a guest rather than a captive. Stranger still, Sakura can't figure out why he's bothered to help make her time at Akatsuki a little more bearable. Perhaps because she's a shinobi from his home village? Sakura is uncertain. All she knows is that a little spark of excitement springs to life inside her when she hears chords of beautiful music floating down the hallway, signaling that Itachi is practicing. Without fail, he always allows Sakura to sit in on his practice sessions.

But tonight it seems that neither of her supposedly "safer options" are free for guard duty. By default, she is stuck with the man she's almost as weary of as Hidan.

Sakura shudders at the thought.

_Thank Kami it's at least not Hidan._

Fluffing her hair out one last time, Sakura takes note of the time and frowns at the clock that informs her it is nearly eleven o'clock at night. Had she slept through an entire day, or is it still the same day as when she entered the greenhouse with Tobi?

Knowing she won't get any answers just standing about in her empty room, Sakura walks purposefully into the hallway.

Feeling a bit ridiculous about it, Sakura raises a fist to knock on Deidara's bedroom door.

_Why do I have to come to him? I'm the prisoner here! This makes it look like I'm actually seeking him out._

Inwardly grumbling at the backwardness of the situation, Sakura's head jerks up in alarm when the door swiftly swings open and Deidara looms in the doorway. With his hair let down from its usual half tied up style, Sakura is tempted to make a remark about how girly he looks, but decides against it. She hasn't been around Deidara for quite some time; who knows what kind of mood the volatile Akatsuki is in these days.

"Hey there, little birdy, yeah," he greets with a smirk, roving over Sakura's figure with a critical eye.

_Well, at least there's no slur this time. Small miracles._

Sakura nods stiffly in recognition, apprehensive and edgy to be alone in his company once again. The click of the locked door shutting behind her does nothing to soothe her nerves.

"It's been a while, yeah. Have you been avoiding me, songbird?" Deidara asks, his hands working at unfastening the clasps of his Akatsuki cloak. Sakura catches a glimpse of a smile and can hear the playfulness in his tone. Deidara knows that that is exactly what she has been doing.

"Who's avoiding who? Don't flatter yourself, you're not all that intimidating," Sakura replies tersely, crossing her arms in front of her chest and taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

Light dances in Deidara's eye, the dim, yellowed glow of a small lamp in the corner making his skin appear even tanner and his teeth, in contrast, gleam even brighter as his smirk widens into a grin.

"Oh, someone's a little feisty tonight, yeah," Deidara's voice holds a note of warning for Sakura as he crosses the room to collapse on the bed beside her.

Turning on his side, he props his head up on his arm and regards the young medic with an expression she really doesn't want to see directed at her by any of these criminals.

"That's fine, yeah, I don't find you intimidating in the slightest," Deidara says, yanking Sakura back to lie beside him. A tiny shriek of indignation escapes Sakura at being manhandled, but she doesn't fight to get away from him, to Deidara's slight surprise. But deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, he presses his mouth against Sakura's bare shoulder. Her still partially damp hair tickles his face and he inhales her floral scent with pleasure.

"Kami, you smell so good it should be a sin, yeah," Deidara nearly moans against the back of her neck, encircling her waist with his arms in a tight grip.

Fighting her reflex to grimace, Sakura tilts her head back to look at him over her shoulder, focusing all of her efforts into arranging her features into what she hopes will pass as a coy expression.

"I'm named after cherry blossoms, what would you expect?"

The Akatsuki merely nuzzles her neck some more, humming in approval of her statement. Sakura raises a dubious eyebrow at the one-track mindedness of her babysitter for the night, though it goes unnoticed.

"Actually, Deidara," Sakura begins casually, ignoring the hand that traces lightly over the exposed line of skin above the waistband of her shorts, "I'm quite fond of flowers. I was hoping, maybe, that you could get me some? Unless of course you want to let me go sometime soon so I can be on my merry way and pick all the flowers I want…" Sakura trails off, knowing full well that such notions are utter nonsense.

Deidara laughs, "Ah, my little songbird wants to leave me. That hurts, Sakura, yeah," Deidara mockingly sounds dismayed, "But you know that's not going to happen. I'm not the one with the key to this cage, yeah."

Sakura huffs in irritation, "You don't need a key. You come and go as you please."

The blonde chuckles, "This is true."

Sakura jerks away from him, her shoulders and back held stiffly as she effectively gives him the cold shoulder and tries to materialize a physical barrier between them with her thoughts alone.

Deidara's lips curl up at her haughtiness and he can't help but enjoy himself with this new catty side of Sakura. Before, she had been a furious, spitting ball of pink too afraid to hold any sort of conversation with. Now, he can't necessarily call their exchange friendly, but she's certainly taken a more active role in their interactions. Whether it has to do with boredom or the overwhelming sense of hopelessness that comes with captivity, Deidara decides he doesn't care. He likes the slightly more intimate connection Sakura appears to be willing to make with him.

"Hey, hey, now, little birdy. Don't turn away, yeah," Deidara croons, pulling Sakura closer until her back fits snuggly against his chest and he rests his chin atop her head, "I'll see what I can do about those flowers, yeah."

Sakura remains silent for a moment longer, appearing to be warring with herself over whether or not she should give in and accept the offer, or remain stewing in her own irritation. Deidara drags his fingers through her hair, rubbing the ends of a few soft strands between pinched fingers and marveling at how long her hair has grown during her captivity.

'Sasori no Danna wants to turn you into a damn doll, yeah. Such a waste.'

A single pupil in a sea of glinting azure shrinks to half its size at the thought. Unconsciously, his arm draped loosely over Sakura's waist tightens around her.

"I like poppies. The white ones are my favorite."

The tension around Deidara's lone visible eye recedes and he decides that there will be plenty of time later to lament over his partner's flawed views on art.

"I'll see what I can do, yeah," Deidara replies, his voice unusually gentle as he admires the way the soft lighting makes Sakura's skin glow warmly and how it reflects off her petal-pink hair, nearly washing it out.

With her back turned to the momentarily tamed monster, Sakura allows a small smile of victory to grace her lips.

* * *

**Author's Note: Big thanks to everyone who has been so patient with the long break I had to take since the last chapter! I've loved all of your reviews; they are seriously the fuel to my imagination.**

**If you felt like some things just seemed to click into place too easily for Sakura and her plan to escape – good! And that's all I'm going to say about that. This chapter is basically just a set-up (albeit an extremely necessary and important one) for the next one or two chapters that are to follow. So yes, this story is finishing up soon, sad to say, and although the ending I have in mind for this could quite easily be used to make a sequel, I doubt that'll be done. While this story certainly isn't canon by any means, the sequel would require some major divergences from the actual Naruto series and I'm not sure if that's a project I'm willing to undertake. I'm having a great time writing _You Give Me Fever_, but there are a few other plot ideas I have waiting to explore once I've wrapped this up. Thanks to those who have offered advice for improvement and things you'd like to see happen; I'm not going to go into detail as to what I'm doing to address some of what you've brought up, but it really does help me out!**

**On a different note, I did quite a bit of research on an odd variety of topics for this chapter…learning about some rather questionable things. Just as an aside, the bouquet of red and coral roses is symbolic of passion and desire. The Elixir of Near Death, yeah, totally made up, but some have hypothesized that a fake death could be simulated with the right dosage of morphine (obviously, the risk for getting that wrong is pretty high, so we're going to rely on Sakura's expert medical skills to calculate everything correctly). More on this little cocktail will probably be explained in the next chapter. Also, Madara will definitely be making an appearance in the next chapter; this will be as himself, not in Sakura's dreams and not under the guise of Tobi. I'm pretty excited for the scene I have planned out for their "first" encounter. And since I don't think it was too obvious, the double/reflection Sakura sees of herself in Madara's jutsu is meant to be a sort of representation of Inner Sakura which helped her to fend off Madara for at least a short while.**

**While it's been forever since I wrote it, I was super happy that people liked the scene with Pain; I was a little unsure of that one. I've been working hard to characterize Itachi a certain way as well, and like one reviewer said, he is meant to be a gentle soul. Deidara, as always, is a lot of fun to write. Somehow, a less than sober Deidara isn't that hard to imagine and I'm glad it provided some humor to the story.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Song for inspiration: "Build God, Then We'll Talk" by Panic! at the Disco**


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